The Open Handed Prince
by SecondGuess
Summary: Stranded on this planet, everyone was lucky to have what they had. So why did it seem like the Danzigers still had less than everyone else?
1. Chapter 1

The Open-Handed Price

Author: SecondGuess

Rating: PG (Minor Futuristic Bad Language)

Disclaimer: Amblin and Universal can keep 'em. I just want to borrow them for a while.

Feedback: Is my reason for living in this un-reality.

Author's Notes: Allison McDonnell is my personal savior. When I die, I want my ashes scattered on her Canadian front lawn.

Timeline and Summary: A Bess and Danziger friendship fic-- "Stranded on this planet, everyone was lucky to have what they had. So why did it seem like the Danzigers still had less than everyone else?"

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Danziger had never raised a hand to a woman in his life. In fact, in his thirty-five years orbiting earth, the thought had never even crossed his mind. Wait, okay, that was a lie--the time True crumbled her green paint pot into his shampoo bottle and he'd almost lost it completely. The cheap soap had completely absorbed the green dyes, and for a brief moment as he stared into the old taxi hubcap he'd polished to use as a mirror, he'd entertained the thought of hauling his beloved eight year old into the shower unit and giving her a matching style. He'd wanted to see how she'd like her long, blondish locks- so straight like her mom's- in a shade that resembled the overcooked vege-protein packs recent pay cuts had forced him to shovel down her unwilling throat. That thought alone, however, made him instantly contrite, and as he'd tried his best to rinse out the olive tone out of his mess of curls he decided it was a good night to splurge on a treat from the vend-stop. They'd been at their wits end that month.

And now as he sat there listening to Devon drone on and on about his flaws and shortcomings, the vid-reel playing in his mind was a vicious array of goof ups and complete misses from his days on the station as well as their trek across G889. Wasn't he trying his best? He didn't often let Devon's ranting get the better of him but, not only was he was cold and miserable, he had fallen on the slippery rocks at the mouth of the Grendler cave he'd found on his scout and sliced open his thigh. Plus, he felt more tired than he could remember in a long time. _Maybe it's because you keep offering to take over night watch, _he reminded himself.

The camp was underwater and, for the last three days, they hadn't been able to move on due to the torrential rain. Everyone was starting to feel the oppressive weather. Danziger couldn't decide what he hated more: sitting outside all night in a storm that even a _Grendler_ wouldn't venture out in, or lying on his cot--kind of dry, kind of warm--while someone else was out there doing it instead.

The whole exercise of even _having _a night watch in this rain was pointless, they hadn't seen a living creature since it had begun, but Adair wouldn't have it any other way. Most of the men--he grimaced as a flash of Morgan Martin's useless face interrupted his thoughts- had graciously taken over the shifts that belonged to the ladies. It made more sense to double up on shifts. This way only a few members ran the risk of contracting whatever archaic earth-infection brought on by the inclement weather Julia and Bess kept rambling about. It was something strange sounding for an illness, something like 'pneumatic,' and supposedly it used to drop earth-res' like flies if they spent too much time outside when it was cold and wet. No one had gotten sick yet, but Danziger agreed with the doctor and Bess that it wasn't a risk worth taking. Whatever the case, sitting on a sticky log next to a non-existent fire in the pitch black wasn't a place for a woman, even a meticulously _dry_ looking Devon Adair. It was better if the guys just sucked it up for the time being.

Of course, Walman had just worked up the balls to admit his feelings to Magus, and amen to that! It was about time that someone other than Martin got laid on this godforsaken planet and Danziger didn't have the heart to deprive the lovebirds of the only alone time they could be afforded. Then, they had good old reliable scared-of-the-dark Baines who, without a fire to keep him company, was sure to wake the entire camp at least six times during the night with false alarms. And finally there was 'Weasel McUseless' Martin who was claiming to be too under the weather to be up and around, yet had been in some VR game for nearly two days straight. What all the bullshit added up to was Danziger on night watch going on three nights in a row, this time with a shankin' gouge in his leg.

He hadn't intended to be away from camp so long, but thanks to the unrelenting rain, the scout's travel time had been lengthened when he was forced to circumvent several newly formed ponds. Now, he doubted that he had enough time to stop by and see Julia before he was supposed he was due to take his post. Luckily, the fabric of his well-worn pants was so soaked through it hadn't torn with the skin of his leg, and he was able to steer clear of True's recently overprotective appraisal of his general well-being. Apparently, he'd reached his quota of 'Mysterious Dad Ailments' and she wasn't too keen on letting him out of her sight. Even that damn Koba he'd been reluctantly letting her 'keep" couldn't keep her distracted in the evenings if he sighed too heavily or if she caught a tell-tale grimace.

That shankin' Koba was a topic he didn't dare dwell on and he knew Devon resented him for not trying harder to get rid of it. But True had always wanted that damn cat so badly and he felt miserable that, day after day, she was so lonely when he was off doing whatever it was that kept him from being a good father. As long as she kept in in their tent, he figured the only person it could harm was him. And if it did end up under his pillow one day, well, at least he'd get a few days rest.

At any rate, he wasn't going to see Julia anytime soon. To go now, or more accurately, whenever Devon was finished holding him captive, would mean forking over his nightshift to someone else and that's what he was trying to avoid. He grimaced as she continued to ramble. Yessiree, it didn't look like he was going to get that cat nap he'd hoped for before watch duty either, not with his teeth chattering and his leg smarting, and _not_ with Adair standing over him. He took a good look at her and wondered, not for the first time, how in the hell she got those laugh-lines when all she did was frown,. Still, she was certainly pretty enough, and it occurred to him that he'd been on G889 too long when he couldn't decide whether to kiss or kill Ms. Adair fir--

"Are you even _listening_ to me, Danziger? I don't think you understand how _stupid_ exploring that Grendler cave really was! What if…if there had been another spider tunnel we were unaware of, and…"

John wasn't listening again. He was a peaceful guy, really, always looking out for everyone else, putting himself and his needs last. It struck him that, for someone who was trying his best to be selfless, he sure caught a lot of flack. He'd been doing it for so long it was almost second nature. When Alex was in the hospital again, he wouldn't think twice about getting his pay docked to stop in midday, when he was sure she'd be awake, with a humble bouquet of real, macrobiotic flowers. Or when True kept outgrowing her threadbare pants he'd spend his savings shopping up on level three, all the while ignoring the pounding of an infected tooth that would probably never see a doctor. He sighed, tongue unconsciously probing the long vacant spot behind the first molar on the left side of his jaw. It had fallen out anyway, and he'd saved himself the cost of having it pulled. He'd always managed to get them though the tough times and he counted himself. It was so damn hard to be happy in the Quadrant. And he couldn't be happy when someone he loved was suffering. He's just as soon suffer himse--

"Did you just call me irresponsible?" He sputtered, the word he loathed more than anything ringing in his ears, launching him from his thoughts to the soggy cot in he and True's sagging tent, the flap of which was refusing to keep out the pouring rain. Unconsciously, he made a note to make sure True tucked herself in with the blanket from his bedroll as well as her own to keep out the damp.

"So you weren't listening! I could have guessed from the way your eyes glaze over whenever I have something important to say." Devon shot back. Apparently, she was really angry. What a nice change

"Adair, can it. I'm serious. Did the word 'irresponsible' just come out of your mouth? Because, if it did, I'm pretty sure you can leave now."

Danziger stood, trying his best to be a formidable, if not downright _intimidating _presence, despite the squish of his thoroughly soaked-through boots and the shooting pain in his leg. He wished that someone would call for her. They certainly did whenever they were in private and things between them seemed to be headed in the right direction, so why not now? He just wanted her out of his face, so he could have some time to gather himself for the long night head of him. Wasn't it time for dinner? An important question? Wasn't there incoming fire or something? Anything!

"What would you call it, Danziger? You're out there pretending to scout just to get away from camp--don't think I don't know what you're doing-- in the pouring rain with gear you refuse to turn on, while the rest of us are here worrying, as usual, if we're gonna have to come find you before you starve to death or freeze to death or _explode _from a bullet in your side!"

She was practically screaming in his face and, as if he wasn't angry enough about her tirade, now he knew for sure that the entire camp could hear her every word. _Well, Ms. Bitch, you're not the only one on this planet with a set of lungs!_

"Pretending to scout? _Pretending? _That insult wouldn't be as mind-boggling if it came from someone who maybe, I don't know, was even a _little_ wet and miserable! But I don't think you have the right to insult anyone from your comfy little throne over there in the nav-station. Especially someone who spends their day busting their ass to bring you back a new batch of clothes and enough fruit to feed camp for the next few days! In case you haven't noticed Adair, your troops are suffering from an increasing lack of morale. And if I have to go spelunking around some goddamn cave to get your son a pair of pants that aren't ripped to shreds, well, then I think it's worth it. Hell, it's even worth standing here like a drowned Station Rat listening to you going on like--"

"Don't you dare bring Uly into this, Danziger! You know we're grateful to you for the supplies, but at this point I'd rather have _one_ afternoon where you actually checked in on your gear--"

"Adair, when are you gonna figure it out? I don't report to you! I never have and, damnit, I'm never going to. So if you expect me to fix your damn vehicles and do everything else you toss at me like I'm your hired help, then you're just gonna have to learn to trust me. Even a little bit!"

He was getting out of line, he knew, but he was just so sick of looking at her mug with that condescending mask that she'd been wearing so often lately. He moved a few paces, hiding a grimace as he worked his stiff leg and, in a desperate attempt to find something to do, he began straightening up True's belongings. They were, as usual, strewn all over her cot and the crate they carried filled with meager toiletry supplies. Normally, he figured she could be as messy as she wanted to be, as long as she took care of her belongings. Her stuff was her own. He just hoped he didn't find that damn Koba in the process. That was the last thing he needed.

"Danziger…" Devon sighed. Her tone had been taken down a notch, thankfully. "John, I'm not suggesting that you report to me. But would it kill you to have the courtesy to let us know that you're not lying in an overturned ATV in a ditch somewhere? I don't have to tell you you're a bit accident prone."

He snorted derisively, bending to search for a the mate to the purple-striped sock he'd found next to the toothpaste.

She continued, "And since we've been on this planet, you've managed to get yourself nearly killed way to many times. Damnit, you get hurt more than anyone else in camp combined! We need you in good working order, Danziger."

He chose to believe that he imagined the slight shift in her voice as well as the tenderness he'd often hoped to find somewhere in her countenance. He was just too frustrated. Her previous remarks had just cut too deep.

"Me? Big, clumsy, irresponsible me?" He shot back, giving her a glare as he fought the urge to sit for a moment on True's cot. Yup, the sticky log waiting for him out there in the deluge was looking more and more inviting. "Sorry, I didn't hear you 'cause I was looking for something to hurt myself with. You know how much I love--"

"Danziger, knock it off! You know what I'm saying!" She huffed and stood straighter, attempting to meet him eye to eye. "You should be more careful. Don't you ever think about True when you're out there getting yourself clobbered?"

She'd been trying for levity, he could see it in her eyes and her slight smirk. Unfortunately, her words hit him like a fresh bout of freezing rain and he stood there, staring for a long time, saying nothing. A fit of nervous laughter rumbled in his chest. Didn't he ever think of True? He'd assumed that, being a parent herself, it was evident to her that every action and every breath he took was for his daughter. Didn't he ever think of True? For the first time in a very long while, John Danziger was completely speechless.

Finally, after a small eternity punctuated only by the sound of rain steadily drumming on the roof of his listing tent, he strode past her. Maybe it was warmer outside after all.

"Danziger, you know what I meant!" Devon floundered, realizing too late the effect her careless words had on him.

Desperate to stop him before he got away from her again, she reached for his jacket and stepped in front of him, nearly colliding with him in his haste. He looked down at her impatiently, unable to his a slight flinch when her knee bumped his sore leg.

"Aren't you going to tell me about what you found out there?" She asked.

He was silent again, still inwardly fuming. He was pleased to see that his lack of a response seemed to irk her more than any caustic comeback he could have managed.

"Are you okay, Danziger?" She finished, more softly than she'd intended. The old earth phrase "too little, too late" sprung into his mind.

"I'm fine. Looks like I managed to leave your sight without moral injury, after all. Now if you'll stop interrogating me, I gotta get out there so everyone can get some rest."

Jerking his arm from her hold, he left her there in his soggy tent and limped imperceptibly into the storm.


	2. Chapter 2

Bess didn't really mind the rain. It was something that she'd sorely missed when she'd moved up the Stations, and something she didn't think she ever get to see again. So she counted herself lucky when the skies opened up like they currently had, soaking the earth and making squishy puddles like the ones True and Uly had been playing in all day. She'd seen the looks Devon had been giving them, clearly wishing they'd stay dry and inside somewhere where they could avoid the elements. But when Yale relinquished them from their lessons early that afternoon, Bess had seamlessly picked up where he'd left off and decided that a little water never hurt anyone.

With both of their parents so busy, Bess had been doing that a lot lately and she didn't mind in the least. She loved Uly's unrelenting energy and True's little "Danziger" sensibilities. The time that she spent with them filled her afternoons with little discoveries about G889 which all the other adult members of Eden Advance seemed to constantly overlook. It also gave Bess someone to nurture and someone to talk to now that Moran's VR habit was raging out of control.

She hated that damn headset, always had, but now he was pushing her to the brink of her lenient nature. Not only was he was shutting her out, he was dead weight for the rest of the group to take care of and he was doing nothing but hurting himself in the process. It had been hard on him, the crash landing and the guilt of his own spineless actions. Then there was the subsequent tension between himself and the group; a tension that, no matter how hard Bess tried to contribute or include herself, spread to her and made her nothing more than the wife of a coward. It had been a slow process, but it seemed that lately, when she helped prepare meals or took care of the kids, the members of Eden Advance were finally starting to realize that she was nothing like her incompetent husband. Of course, the downside of becoming closer to the group meant she was distancing herself from Morgan and realizing herself the lengths to which their values differed.

Glancing at her husband, who was mumbling to himself on his bedroll at the far side of the tent, she sighed and got up, the pair of True's muddy pants she'd been mending still in her hand. She headed out of the tent to wash them, glad that at least the rain had saved her a trip to find wash water.

She paused at the flap. "Morgan, I'm going outside for a few minutes." she said evenly.

She wasn't the least bit surprised when he didn't respond. She also knew that any other man on this this crew would have tried to convince her not to go outside and to stay there where it was warm and light and dry.

"Any other man on this crew would do a lot of things," she murmured to herself, taking a moment to wrap her parka tighter, fussing with the top clasp. "And I'm not married to any of them."

She'd been working on the pants for the last hour, after having wrestled them off True earlier when they'd finally headed in to get a snack from the food that she knew Morgan had filched for himself "in case of emergency." While she wasn't quite ready to betray him by giving the food back to the group, calling attention to his little act of thievery, she saw absolutely not problem with sharing it with the kids. They were _always_ hungry, Bess realized, and she hated to think how hard it must be for children so young to have to go without the basic necessities of life so often. She'd been in dire straits growing up on Earth, but she'd always at least had some form of food on the table.

So during these recent afternoons when the kids muddy shoes and dripping jackets were even more unwelcome than the kids themselves _usually_ were in the places where the crew had managed to set up shop, Bess would bring them back to her tent. She'd also get them dry, sending Yale for some clothes for Uly while usually lending True something of her own. She loved the way that True would smile down at her as she rolled each pant leg and the way that the little girl could be seen discreetly studying herself in every reflective surface she could find.

Bess realized that even the smallest act of kindness could make such a profound difference, yet so many of the people with her on G889 hadn't the slightest clue. She knew the secret, though, and it brought her such joy to see the little mechanic's eyes light up. Eben knew when she doled out rations at dinner time. Carefully eyeing each crew member, making sure everyone got as much as they needed, even if it sometimes was more than everybody else. Yale knew when he went out of his way to include nuts and bolts and other practical tools of the trade into the children's lessons on the metric system. True's face had been slapped with a grin all day, especially when she repeatedly reminded Uly, "I got it first!"

Little gems of kindheartedness were everywhere you looked, especially if you were looking through an earth-res' eyes. And it seemed lately that her eyes had been falling more and more on a pair of broad blue-jacketed shoulders, topped with a sopping slick of blond and brown. It was hard not to notice Danziger, since it seemed to Bess that he was constantly everywhere, doing everything for everyone. But she realized that his invariable presence had the opposite effect on the rest of the group. He'd begun to fade into the background. He was a given and people spent less and less of their time thanking him for going out of his way, and more time casually demanding something further. Bess could easily imagine that, despite the fact that John often looked like he was about to drop, he probably relished the comfort of this anonymity. Stepping out into the rain, Bess sighed. She knew a good Drone when she saw one.

The downpour had let up a bit and she held out the bundle in her arms, letting the still-damp pants absorb some of the water. She took a moment to breath in the fresh smell that would forever remind her of the night she and her older brother decided to sleep outside. Bess had been about True's age and their exciting camp out was interrupted when it started to rain. It was a safe rain, the kind that happened maybe once a year and had become completely extinct by the time she was sixteen. Bess had refused to come inside, and had spent a sleepless night relishing a planet that just simply could no longer be saved.

It was cold, she would give grumpy old Devon and her endless supply of cautionary tales that. And as Bess broke out the lump of hard, greasy soap that Danziger had pilfered for her personal use, she chuckled.

_"If you're gonna insist on doin' my laundry, don't think I'm gonna walk around smellin' like Morgan," _He'd grumbled last week, casually sauntering by her as she sat mashing fruit for dinner.

But the appreciation was written plainly on his face and besides, she hadn't really offered so much as commandeered the task. So many of True's clothes ended up in her tent anyway, and Bess Martin couldn't be expected to return them still stinky, nor could she forget the disastrous printed shirts and stretched to the limit cargo pants that she routinely "borrowed" from his tent to freshen up.

Not that to thoroughly wash all the Danziger's earthly possessions took any more than fifteen minutes.

Bess had never once dared mention it to the girl or her prideful father with the increasingly desperate look in his eye each night when he came to shuffle her off to dinner, but she knew True was down to only two pairs of pants, and most likely none of the new clothes Danziger had found earlier that day would find their way to the Danziger family. Moreover, the ones she held carefully in her hands resembled more a tattered quilt than any article of clothing fit for a beautiful ten year old girl. Scrubbing away, Bess warned herself against dramatics. Stranded on this planet, everyone was lucky to have what they had. So why did it seem like the Danzigers still had less than everyone else?

She flipped the pants over and began soaping the seat which looked suspiciously like it had landed smack in the middle of the biggest mud puddle True could possibly find. She had a knack for that. She'd find the biggest puddle to fall in, the most skittish Koba to befriend, the most dangerous terrain to run off in. It was a wonder John's hair wasn't completely white, with all the scares his daughter had given him in such a short amount of time.

Bess knew it killed him to take his eyes off of his daughter, especially since the whole fiasco with Gaal, but what could he do? The Mechanic didn't have a cyborg babysitter or the luxury of abandoning his work whenever True sniffled or scraped her knee, much like Devon's little unchecked bouts of hypocrisy. Bess had even heard Devon complaining to John that he was taking too long with his repairs to the 'Rail when he'd taken a long lunch last week to spend some time exploring with True. While Devon would drop anything on a whim to help her son, John was forced to endure the face of a disappointed little girl every time he denied her his help or company. Not that True would ever whine or demand attention. She was too much like her dad in that respect. In all respects really, and that was what kept her in such trouble. And that was exactly why he kept forgiving her and setting her free again.

Bess started off towards the mess tent, to see if there were any clean rags she could use to soak some of the moisture out of True's pants. She would need to wear them again soon, possibly tomorrow, and the humidity was doing nothing to help speed drying. Camp was completely deserted. With nowhere to go in the morning and Danziger's scout revealing a mostly clear path for whenever they could get moving, it seemed the members of Eden advance were catching up on sleep, or taking the opportunity to spend some quiet time with their friends and loved ones. She smiled ruefully, thinking of Morgan shut away behind his headpiece, spending all his time God knows where.

When they'd initially pitched camp, realizing they'd have to stay put for a while, Bess had been excited by the process of having some alone time with her husband. Opportunitiesfor privacy in their traveling caravan were few and far between, and when they stopped for night everyone was usually too exhausted to do much more than unpack for the night and hit the hay. It wasn't just the infrequency of the chance to make love, but it seemed she and Morgan didn't even have the energy to talk anymore. Back on the Stations they used to stay up all night sometimes, making plans, telling stories, sharing the warmth of their bed and the comfort of each other's closeness.

Those days in their climate controlled unit were gone, replaced with chilly bedrolls that barely fit two, and Morgan's paranoia at everything that went bump in the night. He just wasn't used to the extraneous sounds of life on any planet, never mind G889. Birds called in the forest and trees creaked and whistled, and while Bess found nothing but reassurance in the calming sounds of nature, Morgan found cause for alarm in the rumble of every storm cloud and the bay of every beast. Feeling a sting behind her eyes at the thought of her distant husband, sheset her jaw and atributed it quickly to the high pollen count at this time of year on G889. Lord knows she was sensitive to such things since she andJohn hadstumbled upon"spring."

She turned her mind to the task at hand, but it quickly became evident that everything in the mess tent had acquired some varying level of wetness, and the few clean rags she'd found would be no help. Besspoured herself the remaining dregs of the evening coffee, still remarkably warm despite the chilly wind whipping through the tent, and headed out again, True's pants flung over her shoulder. She'd have to hang them somewhere in their tent far enough from the entrance that they would dry out a bit over night. She sighed heavily, disgusted at the thought of the little girl wiggling into sodden clothes, and again was struck by the simple everyday torments she and poor Uly had to endure. She made a mental note to look through the clothes Danziger had found in the Grendler stash to see if there was anything suitable to set aside for True. If worse came to worst Bess could always alter some of the smaller adult clothes to fit True's slim frame. She knew better that to expect Danziger to take his pick of the hard-won treasures.

On her way back to her little corner of camp, armed with the grim knowledge that it couldn't be any lonelier if she been returning to no one at all, she craned her neck towards the perimeter of camp where Walman was most likely sleeping his way through night watch. She decided to bring him the last of the coffee, he would need it more than she did. Halfway there she stopped short; not only was Walman not keeping watch, but the last person in the world she'd expected to see was sitting slumped against the makeshift seating.

"Danziger?" She called softly. He jumped a bit, a she heard a muttered curse as he turned slowly in her direction. He looked singularly miserable. "Danziger! What on earth are you doing out here?" She hurried to where he sat, as it looked like he had no intentions of getting up any time soon. "I thought it was Walman's shift tonight?" She reached his post and sat next to him on the log, handing him her mug wordlessly, which he took with a nod of appreciation. As he set his Mag-pro aside and took a slow sip, Bess took in his waterlogged appearance. Poor John was absolutely soaked through, and Bess tried to think back to any instance in the last three days that she'd seen him remotely dry, or at least inside where it was warm. They needed every available tarp and canvas to shield the temperamental vehicles and medical supplies from getting completely destroyed, and any attempt to build a fort to shelter the night watchman had been abandoned pretty early on. She fought the urge to wipe the sheen of rain from his forehead. For all his gruffness, sometimes he managed to look just about six years old.

"Yeah well, I figured he and Magus could use some alone time tonight…better he sleeps inside with her than out here, anyway." He quipped, sniffling a bit as he shrugged his jacked closer. As Bess frowned he bit his lip in a weak attempt to hide its incessant trembling. Her frown turned into downright anger; the man was freezing!

"Danziger, you can't be out here! You need to get some rest, you've been up for nearly three days straight, and you've spent all of it out in the rain!" She was sure to be gentle with her admonishment, considering the dressing down he received from Devon earlier that evening. There wasn't a member of Eden Advance that hadn't heard the end of their heated argument, and she could tell that he was still a little touchy.

He shook his head, dismissing her concern from where he sat with his long legs splayed out in front of him. "It's not that I don't appreciate your concern, Bess, I just…I haven't been sleeping well lately, and my tent is so damn wet I've already got True holed up in the corner to keep her warm. And Walman's love struck…it just makes good sense is all. Really, I'm fine, just wet. And thank you for the coffee." he finished, trying for a grin and taking another sip. She didn't feel comfortable saying anything more, she knew that once John Danziger had made up his mind that no amount of fussing and arguing would change it. 'Those True's pants?" He asked, shifting his weight with a grimace.

"Yeah, I was just out seeing if could find a dry spot to hang them. I hope I can get them dry by the time she plops the other pair in a mud puddle." She smiled, fingering a small patch close to the hemline.

"Well, everything's wet these days. She'll manage, Bess. We always do." He said simply. Bess wondered if it was just that he was exhausted, or if it was his fight with Devon that had him so withdrawn and tightlipped. "Thanks again for washin' em. I really appreciate it." He added awkwardly, when he saw that Bess had no intention of leaving. She smiled, wishing she had thought to bring out a blanket or something. "And everything else, you know…I feel much better knowing True's safe with out in the afternoons, and she's having a great time…I…" This was unlike him, this floundering. Danziger was not one to mince words, and Bess' strong sense of intuition struggled to find the cause of his distraction.

"John, are you sure you won't come in?" She began carefully, tiptoeing around his furrowed brow and bone deep sense of duty. "I really think you should rest for a while. Why don't you go lie down in my tent, just for an hour or so--I could stay out here--"

"Geez, Bess!" He chuckled softly, clapping a hand on her knee and squeezing gently. "I'm okay, I promise. Just a little worn down, but it's nothing' to worry about. It's you who shouldn't be wanderin' round in the dark with my daughter's pants when there's a lazy guard on duty." He laughed, shifting his wait again. Again, Bess caught the grimace. She'd file that away under her "Things To Worry About" file. It seemed to be growing.

"Well, I just needed some fresh air." She said, trying to keep the chagrin out of her voice.

"Yeah…you're tent stinkin' a little too much like V.R. again?" He asked gently, meeting her eye, his hand still unconsciously on her knee, patting her softly. She didn't respond. She liked John a great deal, but he was the last person Bess wanted to discuss her husband's indiscretions with. She felt like with Danziger's observations of Morgan were sometimes too astute to deal with rationally. "Hey, I'm sorry, Bess. I didn't mean to upset you, but I thought, well…" He removed his hand, tucking it back under his armpit in a futile attempt to warm it up. "It's none of my business really, so I should probably quit while I'm ahead."

"No, it's okay, Danziger. I just don't know what to do anymore. He won't listen to me, you know. And now I feel like he's been in there so long he _can't_ listen to me, which is--"

"Kinda scary." He finished for her. She should have known better than to think Danziger would bad mouth Morgan in front of her. He was blunt but never purposefully mean.

"Yeah." She smiled, playing with the hem of True's pants again. "Kinda scary."

"Well, What I was going to say, was…" He paused, hefting his weight to sit next to her on the log he'd been resting against. It was his left leg, Bess decided to herself, he hadn't moved it as he hoisted himself up, and now he leaned his weight casually on his right knee, leaving the left out in front of him a bit awkwardly. He smiled hesitantly when he was finally seated eye to eye with her, and her thoughts flew back to Morgan. "I don't want to step on any toes here, and I know me and your husband don't exactly have the best track record, but…well, Bess, if you want me to say somethin' to him, I mean, just between the two of us, if you want me to talk to him about the V.R. I could do that for you." He spoke almost formally, and Bess had to bite back a smile at his strained words and his sweet proposal.

"John, that's very sweet of you. It really is, but what make you think he would listen to anything you have to say. I mean, besides the fact that he'd be too scared not to." She joked, trying to make light of the awkward situation. Danziger chuckled, placing the empty coffee mug on the ground and rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"Well, I just thought that--jeez, I don't scare him that badly, do I?" He asked, Bess would have expected to see a tint of embarrassment on his cheeks if he weren't so pale. It was her turn to chuckle. "Cause the thing is…well, back after, um…back when True was a baby, and I was trying to get myself together and make some money and…" He paused, clearing his throat and cracking his knuckles. "I mean, for along time there I was kinda of lost. I didn't know how to raise a baby, and I could barely afford to eat myself, sometimes…" He stopped again, wiping his face roughly and giving his head a little shake, like a giant wet dog. "I couldn't work, when she was, ya know, really tiny, she needed me to be with her all the time and…"

God, he was struggling through something, and it was becoming harder and harder for Bess to watch. She reached out and squeezed his hand, careful to avoid brushing against his leg. He smiled at her, accepting her support, nodding at something only he could hear. When he spoke again his voice was stronger, clearer. "Well, True just needed her mother. That's the long and the short of it. And I needed her, too…and for a while there I, um, I spent a lot of time rememberin'…just poppin' whatever vid chip I could find of…um, Ellie," He spoke her name in a quiet rush, "into the VR set and just watched em over and over, I guess…"

His hand was cold and clammy in her warm grasp, and the trembling lip that was _mostly_ from the cold was back. "I let a lot of things slide for a while there, too many things. Alex and Les, well, they tried to knock some sense into me, but I guess I wasn't quite ready to listen to what they had to say. So I stopped lookin' for work…I stopped eatin' when there wasn't enough food to go around anymore for the two of us, and I…I just ignored everything that was goin' on around me."

Bess was speechless. A few months ago, when she and Devon had bullied Yale into accessing John's Station records she'd been horrified by what they'd found, so neat and succinct, taking up no more than four lines on Danziger's personal file. But hearing John talk about his struggle, his past…she'd never seen this side of him, and although she was flattered that he would trust her with this baring of his soul, she was horrified at the thought of all he'd had to endure.

"What turned you around?" She asked quietly, staring at his face though he'd long ago ceased to meet her eyes. He was slouched and staring blankly at his hand in hers, no doubt seeing something much less comforting. A steady pattern of fat droplets were falling from an errant lock of blonde hair and leaving a circle of deeper blue on the sleeve of his jacket. Finally he peeked up at her again, sheepishly, looking as if he were about to stand. He obviously thought better of it, and straightened his spine instead, growing four or five inches before Bess' eyes.

"The old woman in the unit next to me called the Station police one night. The broke down my damn door, ripped the headset right off my face." He was clearly disgusted with himself, even now after all this time. "She said that True had been cryin' so hard for so long…um, I guess it was five or six hours, by then…she was convinced I had left her home alone." Bess actually gasped before she could stop herself, and the soft sound hit Danziger like a blow to the chest. "So she called the police and told them I had abandoned my baby." He did stand then, clumsily but with great purpose, as if he knew it would hurt but he deserved the pain. She watched him take a few steps away from her, wishing she could see his face. Wishing he would tell her what on earth was wrong. Wishing she could tell him what on earth was _right_.

"I haven't been back in V.R. since. Well, 'cept for your wedding reception." He added softly. Bess thought back to that happy night, to the slim red-head Danziger had spent the majority of his time spinning around the floor with. She had been surprised he was such a good dancer at the time, not stopping to question his choice of partners. Obviously, most of her attention had been on her husband but looking back now, she remembered that Danziger had been the last person to "arrive" at the reception. He had also been the first one out, she recalled grimly, collecting True in her pretty dress and bidding them goodnight in a rush. His pretty escort had simply vanished.

"My God, John…" She whispered. "I can't imagine what that must have been like for you, and God knows I don't ever want to." She stood herself, then, walking around his breadth to see his face. Bess didn't know what she expected to find there, but what she saw was that Danziger was nearly finished erecting his walls again. And she had thought that he'd looked tired before! "But I do know that you're one of the best fathers I've ever seen, and there's no doubt in my mind how much you love True, and how much she loves you." She finished, faintly recalling the harsh words of Devon Adair cutting through the hiss of the rain that evening. His face was still hard, but there was something else there behind the anger and the increasingly poorly hidden pain, and that was a sense of relief at having released some of the bottled up emotions he'd been holding for so long. "Hey you?" She teased, reaching up to tap his strong chin. He jumped a bit, but then he met her eyes again the lopsided grin was back.

"And then I was visited by three ghosts. The end." He joked, reaching to pluck his daughters pants form her shoulder. They looked at each other for a moment, in tense silence.

"John, thank you for telling me that. I means a lot to me, and I would love for you to try and talk some sense into Morgan, if you think it's something you're willing to do." She said, taking his arm to guide him back to the "guard log." He nodded ardently, shocked into silence by the gravity of his admission.

"Yeah, I figure can at least let him know where he's headed, firsthand…" He assured her, finally finding his voice. "You deserve much more than he's giving you, Bess, but I don't want you to worry so much, 'kay? I'm sure it's just phase…this planet, it's hard on all of us, ya know?" John's deep voice rumbled against her shoulder as they took the few steps back to his post, leaning a bit of his weight on her without even noticing. If he insisted on staying out here all night, that was fine, but she wanted him sitting down. He followed without complaint, teasing her, but mostly himself.

"If you come back tomorrow night I'll tell you the one about makin' sure to look both ways before crossing the Station thru-way." He plopped himself back down, but Bess remained standing. She wanted to ask him why he was favoring that leg, but he'd clearly had enough serious conversation for one night. Flippant Danziger was back.

"Yeah, well, if I come out here tomorrow night and your still here, I'll tell you the one about the girl who stole the sedaderm from the med tent." She scolded lightly. "Promise me you'll try to get some rest tomorrow, Danziger."

"I promise, I promise…" He grumbled playfully, reaching down to check the Mag-pro and retrieve the coffee mug. "Don't want me gettin' pneumatic fever, or whatever."

Bess laughed loudly, knocking playfully on his sopping head. "Pneumonia, Danziger, and no, we don't need that." He looked up at her, squinting in the drizzle.

"Better get inside, Bess. It looks like it might rain." He informed her seriously, smiling so widely that his gap-tooth grin gleamed in the dim light of the luma-lamps that still burned in outlying tents. She smiled back, resigning to leave the stubborn mechanic to his thoughts, silently resolving to get to the bottom of whatever was plaguing him in the morning. Stealing the threadbare pants back, she turned to leave.

"Goodnight, John. If it gets any worse, come inside before you float away." She reminded him. She couldn't resist one more half-hearted attempt at getting him out of the storm.

"'Night, Bess. Could you poke your head in my tent and make sure True's warm enough?" The pang of regret in his voice would have been imperceptible to those who didn't know him as well as Bess. "Make sure she's got my blanket, too, okay?"

"Okay, I'll check in on her. I'm sure she's fine, Danziger, I'm sure she's warm."

Something inside her wanted to run back and hug him so hard all the pain in his voice would just melt away. Instead, she made her way back to camp, folding True's pants as she went.


	3. Chapter 3

Danziger wasn't sure quite when he fell asleep, but lying twisted awkwardly on his side, his face icy against the rough bark of the fallen log, he gradually became aware of three things. He felt almost mummified in his constricting, soaked clothing and his jacket pulled taut against his chest and neck by his straining hands in its pockets, each one having futilely tried during the night to pull the fabric closer in search of phantom warmth. Then there was the cut on his leg still throbbing ceaselessly; the fabric surrounding it creased and pressing into it painfully. He groaned a bit. It didn't help things.

The most disconcerting of the three was the slight pressure of a small, feminine hand on his cheek. Its owner gently wiped the accumulated moisture from his forehead, softly trying to rouse him from his fitful slumber. Its fingernails raking lightly through his matted hair.

John's first thought, after all this time, was that it was Elle and he was late for work again. His slow, chill-numbed brain rejected this theory and reminded him that he was outdoors and sopping wet, and that his Ellie had undoubtedly slipped away quietly, mercilessly alone, during his twenty-two year nap. The gears began turning faster now, though the body was sluggish to move and lose this brief comforting caress. He decided it must be True and that their tent had somehow collapsed, as he had predicted it would soon do, sometime during the night. How had it not woken him?

"True-g-girl?" He rumbled, flexing and releasing his frozen hands in his pockets. "What happened to the tent? Why didn't you wake me up?"

He shifted to sit up, rolling onto his back and grimacing at the stinging pain in his thigh. His eyelids refused to open, the lashes matted together in a layer of frost.

"Shhh, True's still in your tent sleeping, John. Where you should be…"

It wasn't True's hand on his cheek, after all. And that left, _who_? Danziger shot upright, eyes flying open at the sudden surge of disorientation that swept into the pit of his stomach. Standing there, leaning over him with a startled look of compassion on her face was Bess Martin.

"Bess?" He asked, startled to look around him and find it was morning. Eden Advance had apparently abandoned their morning routine. Normally by daybreak they should be up and about, darting between tents, going about whatever tasked the day had brought them. Instead, camp was a giant, desolate puddle filled with drooping tents and wet vehicles. Apparently, John thought as he shifted his weight again to find himself stuck firmly in several layers of mud, it was never going to stop raining.

"What time is it?" He yawned, accepting Bess' outstretched hand.

"Nearly 700 hours," she grunted, tugging as he stiffly launched himself to a standing position, every bone in his body creaking and popping wearily.

He made it up and then staggered a bit, the over-tight muscles in his left thigh screaming when he unthinkingly put most of his weight on the leg.

"Easy, Danziger. You okay?" Bess asked with concern, steadying him with both hands until he had himself balanced.

Tentatively, John glanced at her face trying to judge if he'd blown his cover. Damn, she looked pretty worried. She was also not-so-discreetly trying to examine his leg.

"I'm fine, Bess…'s just shankin' muddy out, is all," he bluffed quickly, making a show of kicking up some goo with his boot. Glancing down to appraise the injury himself, he was disheartened to find a sizeable black stain covering most of his lap and left side. With the khaki fatigues already a dark brown, it could be nothing but blood.

Danziger didn't pride himself on being a very good actor, and he didn't think Bess would fall for the old "axel grease" routine he used to console True through minor cuts and scrapes.

"Look at this place." He nodded in the direction of camp, hoping to distract her. "Goin' on five days of rain, and everyone's acting like they've never felt wet."

Luckily, Magus and Walman chose that moment to exit her tent, both of them staring at the sky with mixed looks of incredulity and ire, before turning and going back inside. As casually as he could, Danziger stretched his massive shoulders, slipping his blue ops jacket off and quickly dangling it in front of his ruined pants. He needed to change and make those bad boys disappear before Bess did another sweep of his tent for something to wash.

"This whole place is staring to look like a pig pen." Bess sighed, squishing some mud from under her boot to prove her point. His exercise in deception successful for the time being, John turned to meet Bess' eyes once again.

"What's a pig pen look like?" He asked, bringing a small grin to the Earth-res' face.

"It's not a place you want to sleep, I'll tell you that much." She chided, reaching up in an attempt to dislodge the leaves and brush that had become tangled and knotted in his hair.

Danziger eyed her oddly, amused to find her motherly instincts didn't stop at the children. He doubted Martin even had a clue what kind of woman he taking for granted.

"Eh, give up," he grumbled good-naturedly, swatting her hand away. "I'll have True brush it out for me later, she's always tryin' to get her hands on this rat's nest."

He chuckled, but there was Bess' soft sigh again, undoubtedly connected to the mention of his daughter's name. John tried his best to read from her expression what she was thinking. Was it something to do with True? Was Bess concerned about her?

Before he could enquire she spoke gingerly. "I know it's hard for you to hear this, Danziger, but…well, I went to check on True last night like I promised, and she was sitting there, still awake-"

"Was the tent leaking? Aw hell, I thought it would hold up one more night," he growled, going to run a frustrated hand through her hair until he encountered the matted brambles. He should have fixed the tent before he'd come out for watch, but Devon's diatribe had eaten up his window of opportunity.

"It's not the tent, Danziger. It's you," Bess continued delicately. "She's worried about you. She's concerned you're spreading yourself too thin, and I think she may be right."

"Damnit! Me and True talked about this yesterday. We're going though a tough time now. Everyone's feeling the strain of the weather and the cabin fever and everything else, which is why we all have to make sacrifices!"

"She knows that, John, True's a very smart girl. Unfortunately, when she looks around, the only one she can see sacrificing anything is her father."

Danziger was flabbergasted. What was it about all the women in his life being prone to over-dramatics? "C'mon, now, that's just crazy--everyone is helping out in every way they can, Bess, you know that!"

"You keep saying this, But I don't know if I buy it, Danziger. Look at camp. Go ahead, turn around!" Hesitantly, he did as he was told, hobbling in a half circle to glance back at the other colonists. There wasn't much to see.

"Normally we'd be up by now, wouldn't we, packing or cooking or doing _something_ constructive to help us get to New Pacifica. What do you see John?" She asked pointedly.

Danziger hadn't ever really been on the receiving end of Bess' wrath, even when he and Morgan went at it. He didn't think he liked it much.

"I don't see a soul at the moment, Bess." He responded, trying to keep his cool. He just wanted to go back to his tent and get dry, instead of being stuck in the rain while Bess did her best Adair impression. "Maybe they all have the good sense to not be standin' outside arguing in the rain."

"They're sleeping, John! Most of them haven't gotten out of bed yet, even though they've slept in all week. Alonzo and Julia are doing God knows what in the Med Tent, Devon's spending time with her son, Yale is reading, Walman and Magus are taking a honeymoon, and my husband has been playing Cops and Robbers in his bunk for the last three days!"

Danziger turned back to face Bess as she finished her tirade. He was completely blown away by her anger. He figured a few years living with Martin would do that to you.

"What the hell is Cops and Robbers?" He asked, at a loss to say anything else. The look he got in return made him want to reflexively duck from the punch she was about to throw. Luckily, she wasn't a man.

"My point is, Danziger, that I don't think you realize what's going on around you. You keep telling True about sacrifices and going without, but you're so wound up in helping everyone else, you're not seeing the big picture."

"Well, then, Bess, maybe you could enlighten me and that way I can go talk some sense into my melodramatic daughter." He sighed, tired and in pain and at a loss as to what to do about anything anymore.

"The more you give, the more they take John. And you're to busy breaking your stubborn back to see that they're not giving anything in return!"

"Bess, I think you're being unfair. And if that's really how True feels then we're gonna have to talk about this again. It's no good being selfish at a time like this--"

"You're being too hard on her, John! It's not selfish for her to want her father. It's not selfish to want him to be healthy and out of harm's way! Right now True is sitting in your tent, staring at the wall, waiting for you to come home."

Assaulted by the visual that accompanied her words, Danziger swallowed hard.

"She would have come out to get you, but she's scared she'll get scolded for coming out in the rain. Of course, it's just as well that she didn't sneak out in time to see her father freezing to death, sleeping on the ground, looking like a dead man!"

Bess was livid. It was finally dawning on him that her rage stemmed from endless words of encouragement and advice that fell on pigheaded and distracted deaf ears. Angry in equal parts at a daughter who wouldn't listen to reason and a father who couldn't reassure his daughter, John Danziger found himself arguing with the one person who was trying to help them both. Confused, he flapped his arms in a huff, floundering for an apology or an excuse before his left hand, gripping his ops jacket in a tight fist, connected solidly with his injury.

Danziger saw stars and not much else as the leg began to buckle beneath him. Bess swam into vision, catching him by the arm and guiding him down roughly into the same shankin' mud puddle he'd been lying in all night. She stood before him, trembling with abating fury and rising concern.

"Bess, I'm sorry…I just--" He sputtered between clenched teeth, his body teeming with pounding pain and exhaustion.

"John, please, you need to tell me what's wrong," she insisted seriously, all traces of her previous outburst replaced with worry.

He knew when he was cornered and, at the moment, Danziger couldn't even remember why he was fighting so hard to avoid the help he needed.

"Danziger! You're the last person I would have thought would fall asleep on night watch. Do I have to remind how careless that is?" Devon Adair admonished as she came up behind the pair, crossing to the outskirts of camp with her arms crossed antagonistically.

Then Danziger remembered.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this took so long, the gods of fanfic are conspiring against me...

* * *

Bess watched with fascination as Danziger's face grappled with an onslaught of warring emotions. There was the pain at first, blocking everything else, and then came the anger, the frustration and guilt. She watched as he closed his eyes, marshalling his best effort at calmness and nonchalance, and when he opened them again she was met with a gunmetal gray stare so icy it made the rain feel like a holo-beach swimming pool. She quickly thanked the heavens that this glare was not meant for her.

"Don't even start with me, Adair. Don't even _start_!" he growled, standing so quickly and violently that Bess' momentarily forgot that the shivering, stumbling man she'd found asleep in the storm had ever existed.

Her eyes darted quickly back to Devon, who's stance clearly showed she had no intentions of backing down, nor was she going to let John off the hook so easily. Bess didn't understand why she was still so angry with him over the solo scout, but she knew that if it had been Morgan out there in the barrage of rain she would have been as worried as a turkey on Thanksgiving. She'd be just as relieved as can be to have him back in one piece. Love works in mysterious ways, she figured, but that didn't mean she was going to stand aside and leave John to the wolves. Trouble was, she didn't think John was the type of guy who liked nosy little Earth-res' speaking on his behalf.

"I know what I say means nothing to you, but I generally think we're better off with a conscious guard," Devon began flippantly, hands perched on her hips.

"Adair, listen, now is not a good time to pick a fight…" Danziger warned, trying his best to keep his cool. Bess stood stuck between the two, feeling for all the world like a pebble between two mountains.

"Oh, so you sleeping out here while you're responsible for the perimeter is _me _picking a fight." she responded, equally calmly.

Danziger snorted, and Bess took the opportunity to move out of the lime of fire, stepping to stand next to Danziger in what she hoped looked like a unified front. She spoke up hesitantly, hoping to defuse the ticking time bomb that was, well, every conversation John and Devon had these days.

"Devon, don't you think you're over-reacting just a bit? I mean, well, this wouldn't be the first time that sleep got the better of the night watchman, right? Walman and Denner--"

Devon not only ignored her statement, but she actually began to speak over Bess as though she wasn't there at all. "Why is it that you're out here instead of Walman, anyway? Or did you just decide that you're apparent death wish had spread to the include the rest of camp as well?"

That shocked Bess a little. While her heart was filled with sympathy for John, she'd been able to see Devon's point-of-view up until that moment. Now it seemed like she was just being mean. Bess turned in time to see Danziger literally _squirm _in an attempt to keep his cool.

"Damnit, Adair, I was doing the man a favor! You know, that's when you do something for somebody else--"

"Spare me, Danziger. Next time you want to give someone the night off maybe you should think about how it will effect the entire group." Devon took a step forward, inching her way into his personal space.

John stood his ground. "Gee, Boss, I wasn't sure you even knew that concept existed." he responded icily, and now Bess was sure she was in over her head. Be it Danziger's injury or Devon's bruised ego, this conversation had gone straight past slings and jumped directly to flaming arrows.

Bess floundered for a moment before trying a different tact. "Now, John, it was very sweet of you to take Walman's shift, but I think what Devon is trying--"

His head whipped around to face her, and she nearly jumped. Apparently, John had all but forgotten she was there.

The constricted attempt at cheerfulness in his tone when he next spoke would have been comical if not for the pained and furious expression on his face. "Bess, do me a favor? Make sure True gets some breakfast, okay? She's always got the hungry horrors, and I don't want her waitin' for me."

Danziger was inwardly seething. Unfortunately, he was also on his last leg, literally. Despite her better judgment, Bess knew that to voice her concern in front of Devon would do nothing but strip him of his masculinity and add fuel to Devon's fire. If only their stubborn leader would open her eyes for a minute and see the state of the man she was berating.

"Bess…" He growled when she didn't move, his stare once again fixed on Devon's defiantly raised chin.

Devon smiled slightly, not taking her eyes of Danziger's haggard glare. "Go ahead, Bess. Danziger thinks he can take care of himself." Trying for a good-natured quality, the acerbic undertone and thinly veiled threat towards both opposing parties was not lost on Bess. Fortunately for Danziger, she wasn't ready to be scared away just yet.

"Adair, what is _wrong_ with you? If you think I'm some mindless automaton who's just gonna take this shit from you and keep on doin' my job then you've got the wrong guy. I think you're lookin' for Zero." John gave his best attempt at rational thought, obviously trying to avoid another all out brawl. As far as Bess could see, the problem was that Devon thought she was being rational and therefore it must be Danziger who had the problem. Still, it was good to see that some of the earful she'd given Danziger earlier that morning had sunk in.

"Well, at least we know Zero won't fall asleep!" Devon answered in a huff, refusing to let the subject at hand go.

Bess found herself wanting to grab her and give her a good shake. All that mattered now was getting John inside so he could get some rest. Anymore scolding could wait until he'd had a chance to dry off. She was about to say as much when she realized that Devon's last comment was the straw that broke the Drone's back.

Danziger strode towards Devon purposefully, his finger wagging violently in her direction. "Listen lady, I don't see you out here--"

Devon rolled her eyes before he'd even gotten half a sentence out, cutting him off. "Well, I wish I had been, Danziger. At least that way I would know who was sneaking into camp before they paraded in and destroyed all our--"

Bess's head ping-ponged back to Danziger, who was limping closer to Devon with each word, with surprisingly effective menace.

"Please! Do you think there's a shankin' Grendler _on _this planet stupid enough to be out in this weather?".

"You tell me, Danziger. You're the one dying to go off scouting in it any chance you can get! And it's not the Grendlers I'm worried about, it's the penal colonists--"

"Christ, Adair, I only nodded off for a few--"

"You know, the ones who shot you, stole from us and nearly snatched your daughter right from under your nose?"

"Devon!" Bess gasped, stunned at the lengths through which she would go to humiliate John. Watching every muscle in his body vibrate with rage, Bess felt a moment of irrational fear that Devon Adair had just gotten herself killed. There was no doubt in her mind that if Devon had been a man, she'd be lying on the ground with a broken jaw.

John turned to face Bess, and she was relieved to find no trace of the resentment he'd been radiating at Devon in his face. Instead she saw a look of utter defeat, and without another word to Devon he strode off, head drooping as he concentrated on putting on foot in front of the other.

Devon seemed surprised by his sudden retreat, and as she moved to follow him Bess cut her off, planting her feet firmly in Devon's path.

"What do you think you are doing, Devon?" she asked quietly, deadly serious. "Can't you recognize that John is pushed to his limit? What do you want from him?"

Devon's brow furrowed with frustration and arrogant confusion. "Bess, I don't see how this has anything to do with you, and I would appreciate it if you let me handle Danziger--"

Bess shot a hand out, cutting off any further explanation. "This has everything to do with me, Devon. John is my friend and I refuse to watch you drive him into the ground with your reverse psychology and petty accusations. If it weren't for him, none of us would have gotten this far, and yet you treat him like he's your flunky--like he means nothing more to you than any other Drone. And you and I both know that is far from the truth."

Devon floundered for a moment, aghast at Bess' sudden refusal to mince words. "John has contributed greatly to our success in progressing towards New Pacifica, yes. But it's about time he's taken responsibility for his reckless behavior, and stopped to think about how his actions effect the rest of the group."

"You should know better than anyone that each and every one of those reckless actions _is _for the group! No one said crash landing on a planet would be pretty or that anything would go according to plan. Have you stopped to think that maybe it's Danziger's risk-taking that has gotten us this far?"

Bess paused, letting that little revelation sink in. "Devon, you know how much he loves True, how he does everything he can to keep her happy and safe. How could you say something like that to him? What if he questioned your love for Uly?"

Devon laughed, as though a comparison between she and Danziger's parenting skills would be absolutely ludicrous. She ran her hand through her hair, and Bess watched over her shoulder as Danziger disappeared into his tent in a soggy huff. Damnit, he'd gotten away from her again!

"Bess, there are a lot of differences between how John and I choose to raise our children--"

"Wrong, Devon. You both want to protect them, you both want to give them the best of everything--what's different is you've got a lot more to give, and that means that while you're settling a planet light years away for Uly, John is giving True the food out of his mouth. And while you're in the nav-tent conducting every order of business and issuing your orders, he's out there in the rain hoping to find his daughter a new pair of pants!"

Furious with Devon's arrogance and stubbornness, Bess turned on her heel and strode away, leaving the other woman alone at the edge of camp to ponder her actions. At first she made a bee-line for Danziger's tent. She'd had just about of him not taking care of himself, and just because she'd been on his side of the argument with Devon didn't mean he didn't have some explaining to do of his own. There was something wrong with his leg, and if he didn't get it checked out it would only come back to haunt him.

As she drew closer, however, she heard the soft timbre of his voice, murmuring to True. She stopped in her tracks. Maybe what he needed more than her prying and Julia's prodding was a dry bed and a hug from his daughter. As she listened to the indistinguishable rise and fall of the pairs gentle words she heard Danziger's quiet laughter rumbling. She decided it was for the best she didn't barge in just now.

Bess smiled to herself as she squished through the center of camp, not for the first time wondering what it would be like to have a child that meant the world to you. A little person who was the source of all your happiness, a reflection of yourself and the person you'd chosen to share your life with. Sometimes True was just like her father; rough and tumble and full of energy and ingenuity. She had his chin and a button-sized version of his nose, but Bess often wondered about the soft brown eyes that studied her so keenly, or the smooth straight hair that showed no trace of her father's chaotic tresses.

More than once she'd contemplated, especially when she watched father and daughter at play or huddling for warmth around the campfire, who Ellie Moore was that he had loved her so much that his voice broke at the mere utterance of her name. That he'd forgiven her for hiding her pregnancy from him. That he still hadn't gotten over her.

And here was Devon, worlds apart from any woman John had ever known. Someone who was his equal in every way but the one society craved. He didn't have money or dashing good looks, but he was strong and intelligent and handsome in his own devil-may-care ruggedness. Over and over in the past few months he'd stuck his neck out at the prospect of finding love with Devon Adair on this godforsaken planet, only to have his nose slapped like an over-zealous puppy. And now their relationship had become strained to the point of near-combustion. What had been a friendship on it's way to something more was now an strained symbiosis teetering on the brink of collapse.

Bess sighed. One of these days enough would be enough, and Danziger would finally resolve not to try anymore. And Bess had a feeling Devon would have no idea what she'd done until it was too late to take it back.

Up ahead, Alonzo and Julia exited the Med Tent walking arm and arm like two drunken soldiers, tiptoeing through the slippery terrain and laughing like lovesick teenagers. Bess waved with a grin, heaving another sigh as she ducked to enter her still-dark tent. The ambient light from Morgan's VR set lit her way.


	5. Chapter 5

"Daaa-aaaad!"

Danziger could hear how displeased his daughter was with him before his head was even through the flap of the tent. Hands on her hips in consternation, True sat on her bed roll swimming in one of his warmer thermal shirts and her pair of "winter" socks. Her face a mixture of relief and exasperation at the sight of her father. He was careful to keep his dripping jacket in front of his streaked pants, seeing as it had successfully distracted Bess earlier.

John smiled at the mere sight of her, and vowed to put his constant string of arguments with Devon out of his head for the time being. Sopping wet, he stood there for a moment, soaking in the relative warmth that felt so luxurious.

"Lucy, I'm home." Danziger announced tiredly, earning a frequently reoccurring look from his daughter that he'd recently dubbed "my Dad is lame."

"I don't get it." She informed him, blandly. "Who's Lucy?"

"Nevermind, True-Girl. Your Dad's a dinosaur," he sighed tiredly. Despite her general embarrassment at his mere existence, True leapt from her perch and ran to give him a hug. Danziger took this as the perfect opportunity to fall to his knees.

Easing himself down carefully, he managed to bite back a hiss as the dried blood on his leg cracked and split. Focusing instead on the only sunshine he'd seen in days, currently barreling towards him, he embraced her, subtly pulling her against his uninjured leg.

"You're weird, Dad," True announced with a grin on her face that could light half the Quadrant. He chuckled, snuggling into her warmth, ignoring for a moment the eternal father within that warned him not to get her all wet.

"You like me that way." He reminded her, placing a soft kiss behind her ear and tickling her ribs a bit with his stiff fingers. She giggled, and shooed away.

"You're freezing," she admonished, bringing her hands up to his cheeks and rubbing them briskly. Instead of her chubby fingers, John felt scratchy fabric stroking his nearly bearded cheeks. He reached up and took one of her hands in his.

"What you got there?" he asked as she continued stroking the clumped curls from his forehead.

"Your socks. I've been warming them up for ya'," she informed him as though it was the most obvious thing on the planet. John smiled, resting his forehead against his daughters for a moment before pulling his worn gray socks down the length of her arms and off her "mittened" hands. "I've been sitting on them, too, since Bess said you'd be coming in soon."

He bit back a laugh. "Well, that was very thoughtful of you, sweetheart. I'd better get them on before they cool off."

Squinting as a drop of condensation pooled in the corner of his eye, Danziger studied his little girl carefully. He hated to think that he'd caused her worry or distress by taking over Walman's watch, but he could tell by her rosy cheeks and the way she nibbled on her bottom lip that she was keeping something from him. He desperately wanted to reassure her that he was here now, and that he wasn't going anywhere. However, from the way she theatrically grabbed him by both hands and heaved him to a standing position (Danziger was secretly glad for the assistance) and led him to his bunk, he knew that for now it was best to let her do her thing. She wanted to take care of him, and John knew that when she got into "mothering mode," any argument on his part was fruitless. Which worked out because, right now, sitting on his bunk as her deft little fingers unlaced each boot quickly and efficiently, he wanted nothing more than the peace and warmth she brought him with every breath he took.

"You look like you've been playing in a pig pen," she informed him matter-of-factly. He did laugh then.

"You've been spending too much time with Bess, darlin'," he informed her gently as his stiff and frozen socks followed his boots.

She didn't respond. She barely cracked a smile. Wordlessly watching her work, knowing it was only a matter of time before the scolding began, he handed her the socks she'd warmed for him.

He watched her carefully, ruminating for the zillionth time since they landed on G889 about how much danger he'd put her in by bringing her here. Devon's flippant remarks had cut close to home. Gaal nearly _had_ stolen her from under his nose, and all because he'd let his daughter slip by feeling ignored and unloved. To this day he couldn't believe his smart little cookie had fallen for the penal colonist's advances. It had been a smack in the face for Danziger, the mere thought that she would choose a criminal over her father. The revelation still stung like a fresh wound as he watched True's careful ministrations. She was unknowingly so much like her mother sometimes.

As if he had ever doubted his devotion to his baby girl, he realized now more than ever, in these desperate days, that he wouldn't be able to go on without her. She was his anchor, his constant source of happiness and self-worth. He lived for her. Was Devon right? Was he failing so miserably at keeping her safe that she didn't need him anymore? God, he felt positively awful.

"Sorry if they're stinky," he teased her softly, wiggling his toes as she meticulously dried each one.

"They're always stinky." she shot back, still not meeting his eye as she bunched up each sock, shimmying them on in a way that seemed to only make sense to twelve-year-olds. His feet instantly warmer now that they were dry. John stood carefully, jacket still draped precariously in front of his lap, and helped True up. She was watching him like she expected him keel over. There would be none of that.

"Okay, Private, avert your eyes." he ordered in his mock drill sergeant voice. They'd developed this playful military repartee to help ease the awkwardness of a growing girl and a full-grown man sharing a tent even smaller than their unit in the Quadrant. True especially liked when she got to order _him _around.

It was bittersweet, seeing True shooting up so quickly. Damnit, she was almost a teenager! Danziger knew that although she would always be his little girl, these next few years wouldn't be pretty. If he did survive their trip across this godforsaken planet, he might consider bringing a Koba back to the stations with him. He might need a three day-or three year- nap somewhere in the very near future.

"Yes, sir!" True replied, a bit more lackluster than usual, but she played her part, turning to face the far wall.

Danziger ditched his Ops jacket and quickly removed the sticky, sodden heap of shirts he'd acquired over the past few days in a futile effort to ward off the chill. He didn't really feel that cold anymore. Since coming in he felt downright warm, and he was glad to loose the claustrophobic feeling of the suffocating layers. Luckily, he didn't feel like rushing into a new shirt just yet because the one True had adopted was his last one.

Toweling himself off quickly, not daring to go anywhere near his tangled hair, he unfastened his ruined khaki's and scooted them down far enough to allow him to sit again on his bed roll. Peeling them off was not going to be fun.

He glanced over at True, facing away from him. God, her hair was getting so long it was nearly to her waist, but she adamantly refused to cut it. He'd let it go, but if they'd been on the stations he would have tackled her and done something about it by now. He'd always had a keen fear that it would get caught in a gear or an engine or some other piece of machinery she was constantly tinkering with. Long hair, even hair as beautiful as True's, didn't suit a Drone. Too impractical.

John began gently easing back the fabric, suddenly keenly aware of the oppressive silence in the tent. Usually while they took turns changing his daughter would talk at a fairly impressive rate about anything and everything that crossed her mind. He'd figured it was just her getting a bit embarrassed about the awkwardness, about her body and the sudden irrefutable fact that she was a woman and her Dad, even though he was _Dad_, was a man. At the moment, however, she was too quiet, and Danziger got the feeing that she was listening intently to his activities, searching for something amiss.

To distract her, and himself, from the task at hand, he decided to open up the proverbial can of worms. He wanted her to talk to him about what was bothering her before he settled in to sleep. Otherwise, despite his exhaustion, he would toss and turn, worrying.

"Talk to me, True Girl. I thought you and I had settled this whole thing about me taking Walman's watch." He paused, biting his lip as his wound slowly became exposed.

It was a positively disgusting gash, the skin torn a bit jaggedly from the force of the blunt rock. From the way it was feeling, he'd actually thought it would be worse, but it seemed there was more bruising than anything else. It had stopped bleeding sometime during the night, and now it was mostly covered in older, gummy brown goo. It was red, and angry. Danziger wasn't too happy, either.

"We did, Dad." she sighed, tiredly. She addressed him with a curt tone of impatience he'd thought she'd developed specifically for Uly. This wasn't good.

"But you're still mad?" he asked carefully, sliding his pants the rest of the way off, shivering a bit as the cold hit his over-sensitive flesh. Many of the guys had given up on undergarments early on, due to a lack thereof. Danziger had fatally torn his last pair of boxers on his ill-fated excursion for water with Adair.

Even know he shook his head. How on earth had he thought he could jog down that cliff?

"Well, it's still stupid," she responded flatly, trying her best to keep her cool. The Danziger's seemed to have trouble with that. "There's plenty of other people who could have done it, Dad."

Bending gingerly to remove his pants completely, he gathered one of the legs and began hesitantly scrubbing the worst of the blood from the pale, matted hair that dusted his thigh.

"True, we went over this yesterday." Letting out a heaving sigh, en lieu of the gasps that bubbled up with every mere brush of the damp fabric on his wound, he did his best to reassure True. If she sensed something was amiss with her father, he wasn't aware of it.

"Walman and Magus need some time to themselves, honey. It's about time they stopped beating around the bush and admitted that they have feelings for each other." He didn't expect an adolescent girl to understand the ways of love, but she'd know the crew members long enough to know what everyone else did--they were meant for each other.

"That's great, Dad, but why can't they talk or whatever during the day, like everybody else?" Danziger would have blushed had his face not already been flushed with pain. Maybe she understood less than he thought she did.

"Well, they can, except they're trying to be discreet about it. You know how Magus hates to make a fuss, and they just figured it would be best if they didn't complicate their relationship with the group. Which means that you can't say anything, True, you understand? And that's why I decided to help them out, so Baines and Mazatl and the other guys wouldn't smell a rat."

"Everyone's just gonna find out anyway," she informed him pragmatically. Wadding up his demolished pants he bent stiffly to shove them as far under his cot as he could. He stood, tested the leg, which refused to be of much help, and was met with a fresh wave of dizziness. Man, it was hotter than simulated July in a space-walk suit.

"Well, what about Alonzo? Or are you gonna tell me that he and Julia can only talk at night, too?" Staring at the far wall, she raised he hands to her hips in total Danziger fashion. Lurching towards their lone crate, he fished around for the antiseptic stick Julia had "loaned" him one night during a dryer, more uneventful watch.

He'd scratched himself on a large thorn brushing past a branch in the night and, though the plant itself was harmless, this particular species had packed a nasty stinging venom. He hadn't meant to wake Julia, but somehow the doctor had interpreted someone standing outside of the med tent cursing up a blue streak as a potential patient.

She'd come running, only to find Danziger holding his arm out to her like a pouting five year old. Realizing she'd rocketed out of bed for a scratch, Julia's exact words had been "Take this, put it on the cut, go to your tent and don't move again until I have had at least six hours of sleep." She'd also filled that in with more colorful instructions on her way back to the tent.

That had been the same week sprained his ankle jumping from the roof of the Transrover and had nicked an artery with greasy hands and a slippery screwdriver, and Julia had had just about enough of him. It wasn't that he tried to get himself hurt, despite the fact that the doctor and Adair would argue to the contrary, but it just seemed like, in order for the group to survive on this planet, he had to push and push. And sometimes the planet (or his vehicles or his two left feet) pushed back.

But he hated to be a burden to the others, especially when Julia gave him that look that was one part anger/two parts worry, so he had kept the medication in his tent, and vowed not to bother Julia again unless it was absolutely necessary.

Luckily, this had been a good month for Danziger. His incident in the Grendler cave had been the first scrape up he'd had in almost two weeks. Of course, that didn't stop Julia from constantly teasing him, of from taking bets from Alonzo and Baines as to how long he would last.

"Dad? What about Alonzo?" True asked again, and the fog in his head cleared long enough for Danziger to realize that not only had he ignored True's question, but that he had no idea how long he'd been standing there, buck naked and hunched over the cargo crate, staring into space. What had he even been looking for?

"Oh, uh…well, True-Girl, that's complicated…it's kind of adult stuff, you know, Terrian stuff. He hasn't heard from them in a long time, and we're hoping they'll send him a dream to help us get out of this rain." He quickly covered for his lack of concentration, clearing his throat. Snatching up his faded blue pants with the huge black patches and summoning all his strength, he grabbed hold of the tent strut, then the metal frame of his cot, and collapsed in a heap stop the slightly damp blankets. His face miraculously hit the pillow, and John Danziger was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven.

"Why does Uly get to know about the Terrian stuff but I don't? That's not fair," she reminded him. "It's not even because they cured him, you know, it's because of his Mom. He just gets to play around and go to school and, just because Devon is his Mom, he gets to know everything that's going on! And that's not fair when I help you fix everything and I do _twice_ as many chores as he does, and I don't complain about it or go around whining either--"

"Whoa, True…shhhh, honey." he mumbled, letting the pants slip from his grasp into a heap by his bedroll. Using his good leg and fingers that refused to cooperate, he fished the blankets from underneath his prone form and covered himself to the waist, enjoying the sporadic mist that was blowing over him from the collapsing corner of the tent. He felt so much better.

"If Devon was _my_ Mom, I wouldn't have to help dig the trash pits or help Bess wash the dinner pots. And I could use the ATV whenever I wanted, and I could go exploring instead of lying on my ass under the Transrover." She continued to tell him how it was, calmly but with great conviction, slipping in the curse word most likely to see if he was still listening.

He was, but for some reason Danziger found the profanity much funnier than normal. He chuckled, "Yeah, and if Adair was my mother, I'd still have boxer shorts…and you'd be my sister, which is kinda funny." He wanted to laugh, but even the slightest motion was jarring his leg, which was supporting half his weight due to the awkward way he'd landed, but not hurting nearly as much as it had been.

"You are _so weird_, Dad." Across the tent John smiled, eyes shut. "Definitely been in the rain too long. Can I turn around yet?"

"Yeah." He mumbled, "Grab your brush, will ya? My head looks like a forest."

He squinted an eye open to watch his daughter, and when she turned to see him sprawled across his bunk she shook her head with an expression that was a bizarre mixture of Ellie and Bess. While the first was genetic, the second reminded him just how much time his daughter had been spending with the Earth-Res. No wonder Devon thought he was an awful father, pawning his child off on anyone that would agree to keep half an eye on her. And now True was even starting to imitate them all. Maybe all this time he'd taken for granted her pride in being a Danziger. Until now, she hadn't had many other options.

True approached him and carefully pulled the blankets the rest of the way up, as though he was crazy for not having more clothes on. The blankets felt good, it was really chilly in the dilapidated tent. Moving over a bit to accommodate his little hairdresser, Danziger wondered why on earth he wasn't wearing pants.

"What were you doing out there Dad, sleeping on the ground?" she asked, teasing as she began to remove the biggest clumps of leaves and twigs. "You look like a stray synth-cat." Her little fingers played a soothing song on his scalp, and Danziger once again felt the lull of sleep pulling at him.

"Do not." he grumbled back, playfully.

"Do too. And you're ears are about the right size." she joked, his ears a constant source of mocking banter. He'd never really thought his ears were particularly big, but True insisted that made the jokes even funnier. He felt her cool hand pull gently on his earlobe, then stroke a wide path along his cheek.

"You're really hot, Dad."

The undercurrent of anxiety in her voice snapped Danziger out of his Zen-like state, and he quickly opened his eyes to study her worried expression.

"Nah, just tired is all," he assured her, dragging up an arm to pat her lovingly on her backside. She went back to the task at hand, but he could tell she was stewing all over again.

"Maybe I should get Julia, just in case, to make sure you don't have Walking Pneumonia."

Danziger chuckled, tugging on the hem of his shirt that True was currently swimming in. Fall asleep in the rain, wake up and your daughter's a Martin.

"Honey, I'm fine. I don't have any of the symptoms of Pneumonia and I sure as hell ain't walking anywhere anytime soon," he informed her, pleased at his little joke. Under his breath he mumbled, "Goddamn Grendlers."

True looked at him strangely, but it slipped his mind that she had no idea what he was talking about. Instead he shook his head in her hands and addressed reassuringly the sea of Trues he saw when he opened his eyes once again.

"Sweetheart, I'm just exhausted. I don't need to bother Julia. She'll just send me back here to get some sleep and Alonzo will loose the bet. You don't want him taking over Julia's meal shifts, do ya?" He smiled up at his daughter knowingly.

"Ugh, NO. We don't all want to be sick!" she agreed, no doubt remembering the exact date and time and latrine when the Edenites had decided to forgo Alonzo's turn on the rotating kitchen schedule. "He cooks even worse than you."

"I'd be insulted if I didn't know you were right, True-Girl."

"It's okay, Dad. You can't be good at everything." He nodded seriously, agreeing with her as she continued yanking the hairbrush through his rebellious curls. "I like it when Bess cooks best. Devon's not too bad, either."

At the mention of Adair's name Danzigers brain was instantly filled with a maelstrom of emotions and memories to rival the storm raging outside the thin, nylon walls. Whatever True was saying was punctuated with phantom accents from Devon Adair: _Irresponsible, Childish, Selfish, Impossible, Bad Father…_

"…Bess says the little red ones taste the best, although on the real Earth, they had ones that looked just like 'em but they were poisonous."

Looking right at her, her big brown eyes meeting his, Danziger realized he'd missed a pretty large chunk of whatever his daughter was going on about it. All he knew was that it involved Bess again, as though that was all True talked about anymore. Didn't she have anything to say besides what a horrible father he was?

"You should get some sleep, Dad. You're spacing out, big time." she advised him, patting his head gently. John opened his mouth to speak, but found he had no idea what to say. Suddenly he was very, very confused. And hot. Wasn't True burning up in that thermal shirt?

"You're hair looks better, but you really need to cut it. If it gets any longer you're gonna start looking like Bess!"

"Huh? I'm not Bess…" He murmured, tugging the covers down a bit. True apparently didn't hear him as she made her way back to her bunk, humming a bit now that her father was safe and back home.

Danziger watched through heavy eyelids as True tugged up a pair of unfamiliar pants, rolled several times over at the feet, and pulled her jacket over his shirt. She topped it off with her wide brimmed hat, and turned to him once again, hands perched on her hips.

"Sleep, Dad. I'll tell Devon that there's no shakin' way your working on anything today, so she's just gonna have to chew on it," she informed him, smiling as she pushed her luck.

"Hey, watch the language." he reminded her weakly, pointing a finger in her direction from where his hand lay at his side.

"Sorry, Sergeant. Just testing it out. Looks like I'm the only Danziger on duty today." she chirped, striding out of the tent.

Sighing, Danziger watched her go before closing his eyes, surrendering to the suddenly overwhelming silence of the tent. The steady static of raindrops coursing over the framework had long since to become white noise and, with his head buried in the pillow, it was nearly impossible to hear the activity and conversation of the other colonists, finally roused from there waterlogged slumber..

Even in his current state of fatigue, Danziger was struck by an overwhelming need to be out there, helping with something, playing with his daughter. He even went so far as to move to sit, deciding he wasn't so tired after all, but the sudden motion of his numbing leg shot lightening bolts of pain straight down to his weak ankle.

Crumbling to the bedroll again, he flopped an arm over the edge of the bed, feeling around for something; something he couldn't name but he was sure he'd lost.

"True-Girl?"

Grasping nothing but thin air, his fingers ceased their search, and his hand came up to rest on his fiery forehead, blocking out the suddenly lambent light of stormy daybreak.

"Wake me up if it…stops raining." He whispered, tumbling off the precipice of consciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

The group was in good spirits this morning, despite the rain, Bess observed as she entered the makeshift "mess tent." She stood in the entranceway, shaking off the waves of anger and frustration that were threatening to over come her. For the fourth morning, Morgan had refused to come for breakfast, and although she'd taken to bringing him something back and forcing him to eat it, he was beginning to look haggard. His already slight frame seemed to be growing skeletal, which Bess knew was mostly her concerned, overactive imagination getting the better of her. But regardless, this morning, after returning from the incident with John and Devon, Morgan had refused to even acknowledge her presence.

She wondered what it was she was doing so wrong, why he was so miserable that he'd rather abandon her and their marriage to a silly game. She couldn't help but think of Danziger's confession to her, about how he'd been lost in his past and the love affair he'd been unable to let go. It had seemed to make sense in a very sad and desperate way, but she couldn't even begin to rationalize Morgan's infatuation with his alternate reality. She only knew she wanted it to stop, and it just seemed to be getting worse.

After he'd gotten a chance to rest and she forced him to go see Julia about his leg, she hoped John would keep his promise to have a talk with her husband. She could see how difficult it was to forgive Morgan for stealing the escape pod, but Danziger and the rest of the group had tried in their own ways.

She didn't kid herself for a moment, there was still a bit of stress between the Martins and the rest of the group, and she knew that for Danziger to make such an offer was a big step. She just wanted Morgan to see that even his nemesis Danziger was trying to put things right, and that would make a difference. Bess knew it would.

"Can I take your order, Madam?" Uly asked, bowing in front of her with a white cloth turban she could only imagine was meant to be a chef's hat. Glancing among the few tables in the cramped tent, she could see True was sporting a similar hat, and was serving up meager portions of something brackish and gelatinous looking. Bess was glad to see her giggling and out of her tent. Apparently, Danziger knew the magic spell to get his daughter smiling again. At the very least, he'd reassured her enough that she'd left him to sleep.

"What's good on the menu today, Uly?" Bess asked, keeping one eye on True. Uly took her by the arm and gestured dramatically to an overturned crate beside Denner.

"Today we have a delicious assortment of Spirulina bars and some little blue berry thingies--"

"They're called Jupiter berries, Uly!" True shouted from a mere four feet away, her face a portrait of 'Danziger exasperation.' Shaking her head, she scooped a serving onto a plate she'd brought for Bess.

Bess stifled a laugh. Apparently the girl's jovial mood still left something to be desired.

"Actually, True, they're called Juniper berries, but you were close," Denner informed her gently. "Well, this planet's version of Juniper berries, at any rate." Turning to Bess, she watched as the Earth-Res studied the goo in front of her, poking it was her spoon.

"Oh dear. Do I really want to eat this, Denner? It looks like coolant gel and ink." She scooped up a bit and took a closer look.

"Actually, it's pretty good. It's not raspberry preserves, but it'll certainly a nice change." With that, Denner took a bite, and Bess did the same.

Truth be told, it wasn't bad at all. It reminded Bess of the tiny garden her mother had kept all those years ago. Being a child, Bess had had little interest in the vegetables she'd kept, but she'd always loved the little plant with the sweet little berries. With a sigh and another bite, she wondered for the perhaps the first time what type of plant it had been. It gave her a strange comfort to imagine that her mother's little plant in the backyard had been the last of it's kind.

"Hey, Uly, where's your mom? I wanted to talk to her about maybe collecting some more of this rain and rigging a shower unit," Walman asked from across the table, shoveling his food efficiently into his mouth.

After receiving several incredulous looks from the other water logged colonists, he chuckled and went on.

"I know the last thing any of us wants right now is _more_ falling water, but I figure once this rain stop and we move on, it would be a nice luxury to have. And I know Danziger and I could have one up and running in no time with spare parts from the purifier and the 'Rover's coolant system. Even if it's just till we run out of water."

"Somehow I don't see us running out of water anytime soon," Alonzo Joked, wearily eyeing the sagging roof of the mess tent.

"A real shower unit? Like the ones on the station?" Uly asked, instantly excited. True shook her head, the picture of her father once again.

"Seems like a waste of parts to me. Dad and I never had a shower unit on the Stations and we always got by fine," she commented, scraping the bottom of her bowl.

"That's why you're always so stinky!" Uly saw his opportunity and took it.

"Oh yeah, kid, you smell like roses," Walman teased, punching him playfully on the arm. "So where's your mom?"

"She said she wasn't hungry, and she was gonna go check for more Jupi-Juniper berries on the perimeter of camp," he informed them, correcting his mistake and giving True a triumphant look.

Bess took pause, remembering how she'd last left Devon, stunned and probably a bit upset at the lookout spot. She hadn't meant to be so harsh, but the way she'd been treating Danziger lately was so odd and hurtful. If Bess hadn't been so angry with both of the leaders, she might have realized sooner just how unDevon-like her barbed comments about Danziger's parenting had been.

Maybe Devon knew something she didn't; something that would help her understand why John was running himself more ragged than usual. Pushing aside her plate, Bess realized that was exactly the right word. He _was_ running. Running scared.

"I think I'll go help her. These berries would be great to preserve, and we'll be mighty glad to have them come winter."

"Can I come help look? Uly, let's go help!" True exclaimed excitedly, clearly excited by the prospect of something that would take her away from Yale's lessons for a few hours.

"Nah, berry picking is boring. Besides, Yale's gonna teach us about agriculture, so when we get to New Pacifica we can help plant a farm and grow tons and tons of vegetables and never eat Spirulina again!"

True rolled her eyes. "You wanna talk about boring! Plus, my dad and I are going back to the Stations when we get to New Pacifica. Everyone knows that. I don't need to learn about farms, Yale, right? I can go help Bess and Devon?" She asked, eyebrows raised in expectation.

Yale's patient chuckle quietly reverberated through the tent. "Well, True, I think it's a very interesting lesson, but if you'd rather help look for food, I understand. First, my dear, we do math, a subject I'm sure your father would want you to pay special attention to."

Bess breathed a sigh of relief. Of course she enjoyed the girl's company, but she had been hoping to have some time alone with Devon. She wasn't quite sure if Yale understood her intentions, but she wouldn't put it past him. Sometimes the tutor was too intuitive for his own good.

"Why don't you go have your math lesson, then you can come find Devon and I. We won't go to far from camp, and we'd love your help."

True's look of defeat was all the affirmation she needed and, with a smile, Bess made her way out into the rain, playfully tugging the girl's lop-sided braid as she passed.

It seemed to be letting up a bit, at least for the moment, and Bess was glad that it wasn't so wet that her fellow colonists wouldn't be able to go about their business. As she walked to where she's last seen Devon, she pondered how their daily routine, so monotonous and tedious, could seem so appealing. The group had come together to be a pretty good team, but idle hands were the devil's workshop, her father had loved to say.

She could see the tension the inactivity was causing, especially among the Ops crew. Magus and Walman had finally found the time to discover each other--a thing for which Bess was extremely grateful-- but Mazatl and the usually unflappable Cameron were chomping at the bit for forward motion, and the rain had Baines in a particularly fowl mood. Then there was Danziger.

Climbing the slight incline to the night watch station, Bess could see that Devon was exactly where she had left her, sitting dejectedly on the log, facing away from camp. Careful not to sneak up and startle her, Bess cleared her through a bit to announce her presence. Though she was certain the leader could hear her approaching, Devon didn't turn or speak.

"You missed a pretty good breakfast. Those little blue berries were downright delicious," Bess started, trying her best to sound lighthearted. Coming up directly behind Devon, she received no response. "But if you want the kids to think you're out looking for more, you might want to move a bit further from camp."

Still nothing.

"Or, if you wanted to come back to camp, I'm sure there's still some food left. And John's gone to bed, if that's what your afraid of," she added, attempting to goad the other woman into at least acknowledging her presence.

"What's wrong with him, Bess?" she asked, sounding tired and upset.

It was unusual to hear such a vulnerable tone in her voice. At her strange statement, Bess was sure that Devon had noticed Danziger favoring his leg. She panicked, not sure of what to say. She was certain this was something private that Danziger had kept from the colonists--especially Devon-- for his own reasons. But more importantly, how could she go on being so vicious to him when she knew he wasn't feeling well? Before she could respond, however, Devon spoke again.

"We're so much alike, John and I, but sometimes I just have no idea what's going on in his head. It's funny, when he does something that makes me angry or frustrated, my first thought is always, _'This must be how he feels being stuck with me,'" _Devon chuckled, a hollow bark that was instantly absorbed by the quiet rush of the rain in the nearby forest.

Bess moved to sit next to her, and Devon scooted a bit to the side to make room for her. She hadn't thought it would be this easy to get the leader to talk with her, especially after her out-of-line behavior earlier that morning.

'Devon, I promise you that, no matter how much he moans and groans, Danziger does not feel like he's _stuck _with you," Bess reminded her gently. "He's just having a difficult time, trying to provide for True and keep her safe, trying to get us all to New Pacifica in one piece. And in that you two _are_ alike, in every respect."

Devon nodded imperceptibly, meeting Bess' eyes for the first time. "You must think I'm an absolutely awful person, the way I've been speaking to him. I know how horrible it sounds, even as it's coming out of my mouth. But I don't know how else to get through to him. I can see him loosing it, Bess, and I don't know what else to do."

Bess was suddenly confused. She had no clue what Devon was talking about, and was too mindful of the delicate balance of the conversation to force Devon into telling her anything she wasn't ready to.

Carefully choosing her next words, she spoke softly, "Devon, maybe it's time that the two of you bite the bullet and discuss your feelings for each other."

Devon opened her mouth, a protest at the ready, but Bess continued quickly, "I know you all think I'm a gossip, that I like to play matchmaker, but Devon, I am not the only one who can see that you and John have a special bond. And part of that bond is that you're two very stubborn and strong willed people."

"Stubborn?" Devon asked, for the most part playfully.

"As mules!" Bess chuckled. "From all I've seen and observed around camp, from the time I've spent with True, I have to tell you that what Danziger needs is, well, he's been living alone with that little girl for twelve years, Devon. He's been father and mother to her, and he's done an amazing job. But I think he's forgotten about his own needs and desires. You see how he's been acting. He gets panicked. He gets stressed out and the first thing he does is solve someone else's problem. I think what John Danziger needs is a woman in his life," she finished with a wan smile.

Devon seemed to consider this, but rather than a relieved expression her frown became more grim. Bess had hoped that gently letting the cat out of the bag would have sparked some sort of decision in Devon, help her discover the strength to face her feelings for John head-on.

Even as Devon began to speak, Bess knew she had underestimated the complexity of the situation. "Bess, you're exactly right. And recently, I thought John and I were headed in the right direction. We've gotten closer, and he's been doing his best to let me know he's interested. I know it's as hard for him as it is for me, letting himself be vulnerable. You know how he is. That look he gets on his face when he suddenly realizes he's said too much. He suddenly looks like he's True's age." She couldn't help but chuckle a bit, and Bess did the same.

"I know it well. Saw it just this morning," Bess joked, silently praying that Devon would continue opening up to her, letting her in.

Devon paused thoughtfully, her face still reflecting her inner struggle.

"Bess, I need to tell you something, in confidence, and I need you to promise me that you won't share it with anyone else in the group, especially Morgan."

I won't tell a soul, Devon, I promise," Bess assured her, inwardly noting that Morgan had long since ceased to show an interest in anything that had to do with the group, even the juicy gossip.

"It's just…I know you're very close with True and I think that, of all the people of Eden Advance, somehow you can relate to Danziger in a way that very few people can."

"I think we have similar backgrounds, yes. He reminds me very much of my father, actually. The way he raises True. The way he's tough as nails on the outside and so full of love he keeps hidden inside."

Devon nodded mutely, gathering her nerve. As far as Bess could tell, she was not going to like what was coming. A few months ago she would have been a fit of giggles, hoping that Devon was going to tell her that the two of them had embarked on an intimate relationship, that her matchmaking instincts were still in tact. Instead, she held her breath, worried about her leader who she respected a great deal and the man who'd become such a good friend to her.

"I know you've noticed a change in Danziger's behavior recently. As you said earlier, he's not taking care of himself and I don't want you to think I haven't noticed. But we're having a problem, and the only way I can get him to speak to me at all anymore is when we're fighting. And, even then, I have to find him and instigate one just to make sure he's okay."

Devon sounded terribly worried, and Bess again felt bad for having been so hard on her earlier. Still just as confused as she had been when Devon had first begun spilling her heart out, she hoped that once she finally got to the bottom of this, there was something she could do to help both of them. Bess knew she was prone to mental hysterics and it was one thing for herself to worry and exaggerate. But it was another thing all together when Devon got this upset.

"Devon, I don't mean to rush you, here, but I'm a bit lost. Did you and John, um--"

"No, we haven't done anything. I mean, we haven't become intimate. I just, well, it seemed like we may be headed in that direction, but then I found out what's been keeping him at bay this entire time."

Devon paused, taking a deep breath and looking Bess straight in the eye. "There is a woman in his life, Bess. This is the problem."

Bess' head was beginning to hurt. What on earth could Devon mean by that? "Is he worried about True?"

Devon shook her head and abruptly stood, wrapping her arms around herself in meager defense from the cold, both inside and out.

"Not a word, Bess, promise me."

"Not a word, Devon, I promise. Trust me, please," she pleaded, standing to meet the troubled woman eye to eye.

Glancing toward camp, Devon gestured towards the edge of the woods and began a slow progression towards the trees, careful to avoid the minefield of mud puddles.

"Last week, before the rain, when John and I were scouting ahead to determine the route, we were…having a good day, lets say." She nodded in agreement with herself.

"Okay, understood." Bess found Devon's nodding contagious.

"It was a beautiful day, we were in good spirits. Not a machine in this godforsaken camp was malfunctioning and John was free for the moment and could stop worrying so much. And we weren't, I mean, we didn't intend for anything to happen. But we were just shooting the breeze and having a playful argument over the intelligence of Grendlers, or something. I was goading him on, he was pretending to be insulted and I could practically feel the barriers slipping, Bess! I could see the two of us moving in for a kiss. I could imagine him trying to kiss me and I told myself that I wouldn't pull away from him; that it was time to open myself to the greater possibilities of a relationship with John as a man, not just as a friend and a confidant. And I could see something in his face; something I've never seen before. And then something happened. Something very unexpected."

She paused in her gait, turning to face Bess again. The tears in her eyes frightened Bess more than anything had in a long time.

"He called me Ellie."

Suddenly, everything that Bess had seen and heard in the past few days came barreling back at her with stunning clarity. It all made perfect sense! The tired expression in Danziger's eyes every time Devon entered his line of vision. His sudden fearfulness regarding True's welfare and his inability to protect her on this planet. The ragged, painful freshness of his memories of loosing himself to Ellie in VR over ten years ago. Her breakfast turned violently over in her stomach.

"I…I don't know what to say." Bess stuttered, suddenly wanting to grab Devon by the arm and hug her for all she was worth.

"I wasn't angry with him, of course. I was shocked to hear her name from his mouth with such love and to so suddenly be reminded of his past. Everything that is John Danziger before G889 is a mystery to me. I've read his bio-stats. I personally did a background check on every member of the crew on the Roanoke, but I never thought…I had forgotten about her," Devon whispered, reverently, shamefully.

"We've all been so close, Devon, plopped here in the middle of nowhere. I think we've all forgotten how little we actually know about each other," Bess commiserated, hedging around the thoughts niggling at the back of her brain. _What did he do? What happened next? _

Picking absently at a loose chip of bark on a nearby tree trunk, Devon collected herself. Bess swiped at a droplet of rain on her temple and waited, giving Devon the space she needed to continue.

"He was close to me when it happened. I can actually remember feeling the puff of air against my cheek when he spoke. Before I could even comprehend what had happened I heard him gasp, a strangled sort of _awful_ sound. And when I turned to look at him, to meet his eyes…"

She stopped herself quickly, wiping her eyes. "God Bess, he _crumbled. _His face…it was like he was seeing her accident all over again. And I couldn't speak. I didn't want to make a sound, because I realized that, for that one moment before it happened, when we laughing and flirting, he had forgotten all about her, too. And I couldn't even imagine what that realization must have cost him."

Bess found herself crying silently as Devon spoke to her, so candidly and emotionally. This was a side of Devon Adair she had never in her wildest dreams thought she would ever see. And at the moment, she was a bit overwhelmed.

"What did he do?" she finally got out, too invested in the well-being of her friends to tread lightly, too consumed by Devon's story to exercise patience.

"He left me, abruptly, without a word. He practically turned and ran, and I, of course, didn't follow him at first. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to comfort him. You saw how barren his files were, when we bullied Yale into letting us see them. Of course he still loves her, he works any job he can find to pay for her stasis payments, that much you can tell just by looking at him. But I couldn't, I _can't, _imagine the loss he's suffered. The fear he must have felt everyday knowing the woman he loved wasn't dead, but was gone forever. That he would raise the child he didn't even know she was carrying on his own, on Immigrant Worker salaries. I was so overwhelmed, I froze."

Clearly still upset by her inaction, Devon Continued, "After a while, I got in the 'Rail and went to find him. I found him sitting on a stone about a click south, staring blankly at the clouds that were gathering. He just looked broken, Bess. That's the only word I can think to describe him. His face was flushed and I think he had been sick. He got into the 'Rail next to me and he wouldn't meet my eyes, wouldn't speak to me. When we pulled up to camp, I stopped a few yards of the perimeter. I wanted to say something to him, but he just shook his head before I could even try. 'We don't talk about this' he said, and he got out and left me there."

Bess nodded, seeing the source of Devon's frustration, if not the method to her madness. There was an important piece of the puzzle still missing, and it involved Devon's recent bout of irrational name calling. It was all starting to make sense, but Bess needed some more information before she could gather her thoughts.

"Devon, he and I had a conversation last night, and he mentioned Ellie to me. It was…unexpected. I didn't know at all how to react, but the anguish that her name still brings him, I don't know how he can live with that kind of pain."

"He talked about her? What did he say?" Devon asked with a strange combination of intrigue and hesitancy. Bess shrugged, not wanting to go into details about private things John had entrusted to her keep. Instead, she continued on.

"What he said is his to share with you in his own way, but that's not really the important thing. What's important is his current state of mind. All this time, with all he's been responsible for--"

"He hasn't grieved for her," Devon finished. "I know. It's been nearly thirteen years and he hasn't given himself permission to let her go." She sighed.

"Well, in a technical sense, he still has her somewhere. She isn't dead, Devon, maybe that's what's causing him so much grief," Bess reminded the leader gently.

"I think that's what has brought this all to a head, Bess….she _is _gone. And I think that maybe he's just beginning to realize that twenty-two years ago, he left a comatose woman in a medical bay, and there's just no way she's still there. Even if she is, even if John decides to go back with the colony ship, that's twenty-two more years. I think he knows, somewhere inside, that Ellie is gone."

Bess pondered the unfairness of time and space for a moment, wondering about all the changes that must have occurred during her one, long sleep. She had no family and few friends on the Stations, but even so, it had been hard to leave knowing that little or nothing she knew would be there when she returned. It seemed impossible to leave a loved one behind, to never know what joys and sadness and accomplishments would take place over the course of their lifetime.

"I think that, perhaps as horrible as it is, this is a good thing for John," the Earth-res suggested. "If he had stayed on the Stations, think of what his life would have been like pining for a woman who would inevitably pass on. Unable to let go to her body, but knowing he would never again meet her soul in this life. Maybe this is what's right for him. This crazy planet and the permission to let go of her. The permission to move on with his life for his daughter and himself."

Devon seemed suddenly relieved, as though she had been afraid this whole time that Bess wouldn't understand the situation, or see her side. Bess smiled slightly, wondering when stubborn Ms. Adair would stop underestimating everyone and learn to put her trust in the people around her.

Maybe this little chat had been just as important for Devon as it had been for John.

Devon shivered slightly, suddenly spurred into action by whatever thoughts cascaded through her brain. She continued walking, and Bess followed in companionable silence.

"Since that day, I've tried exactly twice to get him to open up a bit, to tell me a bit about her, to talk about what happened between us and let him know that I'm willing to wait for him. But I need him to let himself feel the emotions he's been bottling up. He needs it, it's the only way he can forgive himself for her death, whether he's right to blame himself for it or not."

"He won't talk to you at all, will he?" Bess guessed, having felt the overwhelming tension between the two leaders all week.

"He's completely cut himself off. He wouldn't even argue with me at first, but once I brought up True, it caught some sort of spark. He blew up at me, and we had it out in our usual fashion. I thought it had maybe broken the tension, that if I pushed the envelope enough, he'd finally snap and let something out. He'd tell me how wrong I was and how much he loved her, how much he'd loved her mother."

"If he gets angry enough, maybe finally the damn will burst," Bess agreed. Though she wasn't quite sure it was the best way to go about starting the grieving process, she had no other ideas. However it happened, it wouldn't be pleasant. Hopefully, for Danziger's sanity, it would at least be private.

"I think it only made it worse. John's still avoiding me, but now, whenever I try to talk to him, we end up fighting and I end up saying something horrible. I just don't know what to do for him! And after last night, when he came home so exhausted and battered from that solo scout, I'm just so scared. I don't mean to pester him or talk down to him, but if he's going to keep running from his past then he has to take better care. It's not fair to True that he keeps putting himself in the line of fire; that he's being careless in the name of 'what's good for the group.' That much is clear."

The fire was back in Devon's voice now, the anger she was doing her best to keep at bay. Bess could see how exasperated she was; a similar frustration to what she herself had felt earlier when John had been standing there belligerently brushing her off, though he was in obvious pain.

Devon was right, something had to be done or he was going to run himself into the ground, if he didn't run himself off a cliff before he had the chance. They needed to do something for True's sake, as well as John's. And Bess could see clearly now that something had to be done for Devon's sake as well.

"Well, I think what's important for now is that he get some rest," Bess offered. "Perhaps if we give him a little more time and try not to get in the way, he can begin to work some stuff out for himself. And we should make sure that we keep a good eye on True. I've been spending a few hours every day with her and, although I know she's been worried about him, she seemed okay this morning. What ever he said to her when he went in earlier, it must have worked. She was her own hotheaded self again at breakfast." Bess smiled, her fondness for the little Danziger growing every day.

"I wonder how much she knows about her mother. It seems unfair that Danziger would keep the loving memories he has of Ellie from her."

"Well, I'm sure that John's helped her to know her mother in his own way. Maybe, once he gets past this hurdle they'll be able to share more--"

A sudden shout from the direction of camp abruptly halted the intense conversation.

"Bess! Where are you guys? Did you find anymore of the blue thingies?"

Traipsing up the hill with her usual quick, stomping gait, True entered their line of vision. The two women made their way to the edge of the forest, so she could pin point their location.

"She wanted to help look for berries, but Yale told her she had to do her math lessons first," Bess explained quickly, smiling as True slipped, fell on her bottom, laughed at herself and got back up.

There went another clean pair of pants.

"That was a quick lesson," Devon called to her. Bess thought she looked much better now that she'd gotten so much off her chest.

"Yale said we could wait and do the boring old math later. He said I looked like I had 'ants in my pants,' whatever that means. Sounds gross."

Devon and Bess laughed, welcoming the young girl into their party with a friendly pat on the shoulder, and in Bess' case, a small squeeze.

"Good old Yale, and his antiquated words of wisdom." Devon joked as they started into the woods again. "What do you say we look over by that clump of dead trees?"

"What were you guys doing out here? You didn't find anything at all?" True asked, with innocent bluntness.

"Devon and I were just having a little chat, True. I guess we got sidetracked," Bess explained, watching as the girl took point, obviously to show she and Devon how it was done.

"Well, quit yappin' and get back to work, Adair! You too, Bess!" True exclaimed in a gruff voice, turning to reveal a wide grin. Devon and Bess exchanged a confused look, not quite sure whether to be amused or afraid.

"I'm just testin' it out. I'm the only Danziger on duty today, and I promised my Dad I'd keep everyone in line," she informed them.

When she was met with a stunned sort of silence, she let out a giggle.

"Geez, I'm just kiddin' with you guys!" She laughed again, Devon and Bess joining in.

"Just promise me you won't start hitching up your pants and spitting, True, okay?" Bess joked, raising a hand to brush aside a low hanging branch.

"And _please _don't start picking bar fights and getting laser tattoos!" Devon added, trying her best to shake the melancholy she'd experienced earlier.

"Nah, my dad's a lover not a fighter. That's what Wentworth always said," She corrected them, causing Bess to choke back a chortle.

"Oh really?" Devon asked as the stumbled upon a patch of the small, blue berries. True immediately made a basket out of the copious material from her fathers shirt and began collecting them. Bess and Devon used the basket Bess had brought along.

"Yeah, whatever that means. And he would never get a tattoo, either. He knows how much my mother hates them."

Devon dropped the basket.


	7. Chapter 7

Danziger hit the ground hard, rocketed out of his nightmare by the shooting pain that coursed through his body as his injured leg slammed into the dirt, the dead weight of his body amplifying the impact. He let out a ragged groan, still reaching for Ellie even as his mind made the giant leap from the weightlessness of space to the brutal gravity of G889.

He fought to open his eyes, to free himself of the terrible images flooding his psyche: Ellie drifting away from him, her slender body limp in her oversized space-walk suit, unresponsive to the tinny echo of his screams, distorted by the absence of sound outside his thin Plexiglas helmet.

Her hand held tightly in her mother's, True was drifting, too. Her doe eyes met his, wide with horror. _No suit! She has no suit- TRUE BABY, HANG ON! _His desperate cries of terror rang through his dreams, even as his hoarse throat refused to make a sound. Flopping to his back, unaware of his nakedness or the cold air and steady water that rained down from the widening leak in their tent, John found himself reaching for his daughter, for something he could hold and recognize as solid. Prying his eyes open for a moment, he attempted to make sense of his surroundings. Damp earth, yellow vinyl, a silver solar blanked tangled around his feet. _I'm here, it's okay…True is safe…Ellie's Dead._

Jerking upright, Danziger grazed his head on the metal strut of his cot, his subconscious mantra did nothing but frighten him further. When had he begun to think of Ellie as dead? She wasn't dead, she was still alive. _Somewhere_, she was still alive. True still had her mother. Didn't she?

John shuddered as the memory of the sun playing over Devon Adair's face overwhelmed him with a shocking clarity unrivaled by any VR chip. He could see the soft strands of auburn hair brushing against the canvas of her porcelain cheek, the soft threads of emerald woven through blue irises. Warring emotions boiled within him, threatening to crush his heart, and the whispered names that floated on his exhaled breath invaded the air with the cold rush of a secret door finally opened.

Eleanor Moor, Devon Adair, _Ellie Adair_? The two names felt like oil and water on his tongue, yet hadn't he spoken them together before? Somewhere in his hazy memories, memories he'd fought to suppress in the first years after True's birth, he could see the two names listed just so, blunt typeface filed away in the deepest recesses of his heart. He didn't like the idea of Ellie's name ricochetingfrom in Devon's mouth, each syllable formed so carelessly, spilt forth on a roster of hundreds.

Was he going crazy?

Rolling to his side, kicking the scratchy blanket from his feet, John brought his arms up over his head in an attempt to shield himself from the frantic barrage of images and memories he'd unearthed. Fever heat and falling water had worn away at the rough edges of his consciousness, and it seemed he couldn't keep the thoughts from spilling forth.

_"…Maybe Adair will make you cut your hair…"_

_"…Maybe Adair will teach you some manners…"_

No matter how hard he tried, Danziger couldn't escape the low purr of his lover's voice. Cowering beneath his cot on G889, she seemed to be right beside him, enveloping him, coaxing and caressing him with her small hands to remember the one thing he'd desperately tried to forget.

_"…Ha…like she'd care about a Drone with a potty mouth…"_

_"…Hey, El…money is money…"_

Gasping, coughing on a mouthful of his own damp hair, John fought tooth and nail to pull himself into reality, to waken safe and dry with his daughter curled beside him. He didn't want to dream of Ellie anymore. He didn't want to hear the words he knew in his heart would follow, drawing closer with every drum beat of his pounding heart.

"True…" He pleaded, every syllable forced through thick layers of fog. "Tell Julia to make her stop."

_"…I'd like to see Devon Adair strap on an exotech suit…"_

Tired, bloodshot eyes finally sprung open, the bold fiery red of lettering on a white insulated space walk suit -EXOTECH MAITENENCE, ADAIR INDUSTRIES- left a stain on his retinas, floating against the muted palate of the stormy gray tent.

Breathing heard, each puff of air visible in the dim light of the cloudy day, Danziger tried to shake the cobwebs from his mind, to focus his attention on the present. _Adair knows, Adair knows, Adair did this… _Feeling the spiraling lure of the past tugging at him relentlessly, he squeezed his wounded thigh tightly witha work-roughened hand. Grunting, he focused on the here and now and the physical pain hegladly craved in comparison to the ache deep in his soul.

He needed to get off the ground. Rubbing a hand across his face, squeezing the bridge of his nose, he slowly came to his senses. Why the hell was he naked? It was freezing! Not only that, but True was right over there, and she definitely didn't need to see her old man lying around in the buff.

"S'okay, True-Girl, just a nightmare…" He murmured, painfully leaning over to wrap the blanket around his waist, moaning outright at the soft scrape of fabric against his throbbing leg. Resting his elbows on his knees for a moment, he fought back a wave of dizziness. He needed to get back into bed. He also needed to find Julia.

_"…I think you should talk to me about her, John…I'd like to know more about her…"_

No. No Julia. With Julia came Adair, and questions he didn't want to answer. _She was beautiful and she loved me and she died and you didn't even know that you'd killed her. _How could he face her with the puzzle pieces so irrevocably pieced together once again? What did she want from him? She'd unknowingly taken his life from him in 2181 and contracted the rest of it in 2193. She had him here on this planet, she had his skills, she had his strength. Goddamn her, she had his love whether or not he had wanted to give it.

What more could she want? What more could she take? True?

Unconsciously, the hand that had gripped his thigh sought out the wound again, and with a low animal groan he found himself sinking back to the cold earth. He lost himself staring upward at the sagging roof of the tent, only half-seeing the pool of water that had gathered. True had been drifting away from him for months, taking comfort from the women of Eden Advance that he was suddenly unable to provide.

Sometimes he would catch glimpse of her small Drone-issue worker shoes traipsing along beside the running shoes he could easily recognize as Bess' or the still immaculate square toed boots that Adair pranced around in. The sight had always brought him a small modicum of comfort, knowing she was safe. Now he had other ideas…he could too readily see those little shoes beating a steady track away from him, and what would he do the day they didn't turn in his direction? Or would he miss her departure completely, one warm autumn day, buried beneath his circuits and bolts?

Shivering, he pulled the blanket tight around his shoulders, oblivious to the fact that this only served to expose his stocking feet. Ellie was always telling him he had cold feet, and would force him to wear socks to bed in case he brushed against her in the night. He'd always teased that it would be much more exciting if she found a creative way to warm them.

Danziger chuckled, a soft raspy sound in the dilapidated tent, the fleeting sensation of her bare skin pressed against his own bringing a shaky grin to his face. God, he loved her. Where had that woman run off to?

"True…" He whispered, surfacing the choppy waters of his fevered currents for a moment, clearing his throat. "Go see if you can find Julia, kiddo…I think I need…something..." He trailed off, hating to wake the sleeping girl. When he got no response, he cracked one heavy eyelid open, searching the opposite end of the tent for her small sleeping form, no doubt curled into a tiny ball on her bunk.

Last winter, when they had shared a bed roll to conserve body heat, John had loved the way she would do her best to burrow into the crook of his arm. Long after she'd fallen asleep, he'd lie there stroking her hair, pretending she was still a little baby and not a growing girl who would soon scoff at the idea of snuggling with her dad.

"C'mere and give your dad a hug, baby-girl." He murmured, reaching an arm out in her general direction before letting it flop to the ground. "I love you more than ever…you know that, right True?"

Why wouldn't she answer him? Was she angry again? He sighed, closing his eyes. Maybe the damage was done, maybe she'd already left him behind in her heart.

"True, honey…I know I haven't been the best dad. And I know it seems like I've been pawnin' you off on the girls lately, but…you know I wish it were me playin' around with you, right? And I know you like spending time with Bess…and Devon…but….I don't want you to forget about your mom, even though she's far away. I know it seems like I've been keeping her from you. I'm sorry for that, that…that's my fault. It's not easy for me to remember her, but I don't want to forget about her either, True-Girl. I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to forget about her…"

He sighed, tears invading his voice at the memory of his close encounter with Devon. It had felt so right, so comfortable, like he was finally able to move on. But Ellie had snuck back into his heart with a quiet, rushing force that had knocked the breath from his lungs. He'd ended up embarrassing himself and humiliating Devon. Now the only thing in the world he was sure of was his True.

"Please answer me, sweetie…" He fairly begged, summoning the strength to sit up, panicked by his daughters strange silence.

She wasn't there.

"True? True-Girl, where are you?" He best attempt at a shout came out sounding weak and frightened. Hadn't she been there when he'd gone to bed? How long had been asleep?

Scrambling off the ground, barking a sharp grunt with each painful exhaled breath, he felt his left leg go out from under him just as he caught the edge of his bunk. Pausing to gather his last nerve, he saw his patched pants and grabbed for them, quickly slipping them on as his mind raced with the possibilities of True's whereabouts.

He could picture his little girl, bathed in the firelight of a camp bonfire, sitting between Bess and Adair with a grin plastered across her beautiful face. Bess had no children. Bess wanted a child. Bess wanted _his_ child, Devon wanted… Danziger realized he had no idea anymore what Devon wanted.

His fingers shook with the exertion it took to focus on the three small buttons at his fly. He'd dressed True every morning for seven years, hundreds of buttons much smaller than these. Now she didn't need his help. She didn't need him.

"She's gone…she's gone…True's gone….Ellie's gone…she's gone….True's gone…" He found himself chanting, praying with each frantic breath as he scrambled to find his boots, perilously remaining upright. "Damnit, Adair…you can't have her, too…"

If someone had taken True, if some one had harmed a single hair on her beautiful little head there would be hell to pay! They may be stranded on G889; they may be trapped in Devon Adair's little playground, but goddamn him if he was going to lose another shankin' part of himself to her and her doomed experiment!

Not bothering to find a dry shirt- not recollecting that he didn't have one to find- Danziger began limping around the small tent, tossing anything he could find into his small pack. He and True could leave, he rationalized, fighting a wave of dizziness. They weren't Adair's Drones anymore. He'd paid off his debt, right? She'd told him that much, grinning her contemptuous grin, trying to inch her way into his hardened heart. _Payment was issued upon departure, payment was issued upon departure…_

He would never forgive himself for falling in love with her, for letting his guard down, for disgracing Ellie's memory. Devon didn't need his services anymore, the only one who needed him was True. Let everyone else slave their way to New Pacifica, John Danziger was finished playing her games. He needed to get his daughter back. He needed True back before she realized she was better off without him.

He would find his little girl and he would keep her safe. They would get the hell away from Devon Adair and find their own way off this godforsaken planet. He and True would find their way back to the stations and back to Ellie. G889 was no place for a little girl with no mother…


	8. Chapter 8

_"You know, what I choose to tell my daughter about her mother is probably my business, don't ya think?"_

At the time, all those months ago in the cloying confines of the frigid Transrover's cab, Bess Martin had been mortified for sticking her nose where it didn't belong. All her good intentions and bravado had been cut to the quick with one steely glance from the gruff mechanic.

John Danziger never raised his voice at her. Heck, he'd never even stopped tinkering with whatever he was fixing, but he had made it abundantly clear to her in that moment that she'd found the limits to how far anyone in their right mind should push him.

On the other hand, she'd also discovered the chink in his proverbial armor. Though she knew enough to let sleeping dogs lie, the brief shimmer of pain in his overcast glare had stayed with her for quite some time.

Making their way back to camp with precarious bundles of the little blue berries, Bess watched with keen fascination as Devon listened carefully to the episodic relics of another life that overflowed from True. She relayed each tale with a curious mixture of childish excitement and the careworn nostalgia of a tired old man. Devon was doing her best to keep up the appearance of feigned disinterest, which Bess thought only made her look all the more captivated.

"…and he couldn't fit his foot in a shoe for a whole week! She said it just proved he was 'nuts.' But my dad still has that stupid little lug nut on the laces of his boot. He says it reminds him to watch where he's going."

Bess chuckled, so tickled to hear True's stories; thrilled that her father had given her this gift, these amazing memories. She wondered if it had started back at the winter camp; if it had been those dreams of Dell that had sparked these awkward anecdotes. It had seemed back then, when she was less familiar with the girl, and each attempt at closeness had been met with the inherited Danziger brush off, that True knew practically nothing about her mother.

Bess still doubted, from True's strange collection of stolen moments, and an apparently endless array of parental brushes with the law, that the little girl knew much of the events surrounding her mother's accident. Still, it must be comforting for her to have some grasp of how much John loved Ellie, and through each tale perhaps she gained a bit more understanding of why it was so hard for her father to speak of her mother, even now.

She was certain, from the reverent tone in the girl's voice and the imperceptible details of each story, that father and daughter had come to such an understanding. She could see the two Danzigers clear as day, stumbling upon these moments in time where John would pause, and instead of crushing each bruised remembrance deeper into his heart, he would stop his endless repairs long enough to patch another square in the quilt of his daughter's memories.

They'd been away from camp for quite some time, the three "Berry Queens of G889" as Devon had so uncharacteristically dubbed them. Shortly after they'd discovered the berry patch they'd begun to realize that the plant's tufted brambles had been floating up into their hair. Bess had fished most of them out of her own curly tresses, but True had wanted to keep them, insisting they made it look as if she'd acquired a crown of feathers.

Heading back, Bess had to wonder how Danziger would feel, knowing True was eagerly recounting every nuance of his very private memories to none other than Devon Adair. When True had first commented on her mother's dislike of tattoos, Bess had been floored at first. She'd been so shocked by this unexpected confession that she hadn't even thought to silence True's story-telling.

As the random places and things that comprised the girl's entire knowledge of her mother poured from her lips, Bess found she couldn't have stopped her, even if she wanted to. True was bursting at the seams to share Eleanor Moor with them. To admonish her for this newfound, cherished ability would be the worst kind of crime.

Bess had taken a back seat, watching with a quiet satisfaction as Devon timidly interjected with innocent questions. There wasn't even a trace of any motive other than pure, genuine curiosity on Devon's face. She, like Bess herself, seemed to be aware they were witnessing a small miracle.

It also occurred to Bess, with a quiver of recognition deep in her belly, that she and Devon were experiencing, in tandem, the sweet pin-prick longing that infused a quiet despair into every emotion that took up residence in John Danziger's heart.

Coming down the slope that lead directly into the campsite, True slipped, and for a moment it looked like she and her precious cargo of berries were going down. But in the instant it took for Bess to silently ponder how in the world she would get such a stain out of Danziger's only thermal shirt, the little girl righted herself with a giggle.

"Geez, it gets so slippery when it rains! It's worse than the grease slicks on the walkways down by the Quadrant factories!" Bess saw Devon suddenly shiver, but decided it could simply be the chill in the air. "At least me and my Dad have 'Sea Legs.'"

"Now there's a phrase I haven't heard in a while." Bess chuckled, remembering the tales Grandpa Klemp used to tell about his months spent in the Antarctic Ocean drilling for oil when he was just a young man. "It will be something we'll all have to get used to when we reach New Pacifica, but just imagine being able to take a boat and go sailing on the Sea of Antius!" Both True and Devon smiled at the thought.

"Something tells me Julia will have a full-time job on her hands, synthesizing motion-sickness boosters." The leader quipped, her stomach dropping a bit at the recent memory of the Roanoke listing violently from side to side.

"You know, it wouldn't be so bad, staying on G889 for a little while. Having weather is so much fun! And when we get to New Pacifica we won't have to sleep in those stupid tents anymore, and I'll bet even my Dad will stop complaining about his boots always bein' wet."

Bess took a moment to digest True's rare show of optimism regarding life on G889, and as they crept carefully over the slick terrain of the outskirts of camp, she debated whether or not she should dare stick her nose in. It had been such an strange morning, with so many revelations, she found herself unable to resist. Besides, she doubted that father and daughter had ever even discussed whether or not they'd be returning to the stations, and it was clearly something that had come to weigh more and more on the little girl's mind. She'd mentioned it twice just this morning.

"You know, True, we still have a long way to go before we meet the colony ship. You and your Dad might end up deciding that it would be better to stay at New Pacifica, and that would be okay. You could have your own house, and keep up with Yale's lessons. I know this is the kind of decision that only you and your father can make, but Sweetie, it's okay for you to want to stay." They paused a few yards from the Danziger's tent, so True could decanter her berries into the bucket.

Bess felt guilty even mentioning such a thing, especially with John sleeping nearby, but at the same time she couldn't stand to see True so torn between what she was feeling and what she _thought_ she should be feeling. She was stubborn to a fault, just like her father, and Bess couldn't help but remind her that sometimes even the best laid plans just _changed_.

As though she'd read Bess' mind, Devon spoke up as she helped True brush off the front of her shirt, picking at a few rogue brambles. The little girl was surprisingly quiet, seemingly lost in thought as the ramifications of Bess' counsel.

"Sometimes it's okay to change your mind, True. And I'm not suggesting that you definitely want to stay here, and I have no idea if that's what your father wants, but you shouldn't be afraid to talk with him about it, even if it is just to see how he's feeling."

Devon's voice dropped with a nearly imperceptible hint of envy towards the little girl. Bess knew she was still feeling the strain of her own delicate situation with Danziger, despite her efforts to sound nonchalant. "I can tell you that if you and your Dad do decide to leave, everyone in Eden Advance will respect your decision, and I'm sure you won't be the only ones who decide to fly back to the Stations. But also know that those of us who stay behind will miss you both very much."

True looked momentarily stricken, as though she hadn't even considered the friends she'd be leaving behind.

"I would miss you guys, too." She admitted quietly, casting a weary glance at both women before redirecting her gaze to the ground. "I love my Dad so much, but sometimes it's nice to have other girls to talk to about stuff. I miss Wentworth all the time, but with you guys here it's kinda like I…like even though…" Her words faltered, but there was no mistaking what she was struggling to say. Bess knelt beside her, heedless of the water that instantly seeped through the worn fabric of her pants.

"It's okay, True. When my mother passed away, it was always fun spending time with her friends, or with my aunts. Sometimes it helped to think that, even though no one could ever replace her, there were so many other woman that loved me, that I knew I could talk to and trust. It's not bad for you to feel that way."

A gust of wind blew through the alleyway formed by the various tents, and the opening to the Danziger's tent rustled noisily for a moment, catching True's attention.

"I just don't want my Dad to think I don't need him to take care of me anymore." She whispered, stricken with guilt at the mere thought.

"Oh, honey, your Dad would never think that!" Devon answered quickly, banishing the girl's discomfort. "Anytime you need to talk about anything at all, you can come find me or Bess and we'll help you. Sometimes there are things that you're not comfortable talking about with your dad, and that's normal. It will be our little secret, okay?"

Silently, the little girl nodded, wiping her nose on her father's sleeve before smiling as though she'd worked everything out in her head.

"Okay, I'd better go check on him, just to make sure he's still resting like he promised." She said, casting another glance at her tent as Bess stood and brushed off her knees out of habit.

"You go on and see if he's sleeping, and then if you want to help me get some of these berries ready for canning before your math lesson, I could sure use your help!" She suggested cheerfully, patting the girl's head tenderly. "I think we've got enough here to last us clean through the winter, what do you think?"

"Looks that way." Devon agreed, doing her part to clear away the emotional tension.

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I check on Sleeping Beauty." True teased, using her Dad's favorite nickname for her when she was sluggish getting up in the morning. She took a single step towards the tent before turning back as an afterthought.

"Um, you guys…I think that maybe…all those things I said about my mother? I don't think my Dad--"

"Shhh, you don't have to say another word. Your secrets safe with us, okay?" Devon assured her, smiling at the young girl with a wink.

"Okay, good. It's girl stuff, right?" True looked to Bess for confirmation, looking smaller than ever in her Dad's soft shirt and the Earth-Res' own pants.

"Absolutely, True! Us girls have to stick together."

With a satisfied chortle, the girl was off in a flash, disappearing quickly into her tent. Turning to face Bess, Devon's expression was a jumble of amusement, longing and affection. Looping her arm through Bess' briefly, she let out a sigh.

"It appears that our True-Girl is growing up, Bess." She joked, each woman chuckling as they began the perilous march back to the Mess Tent.

Bess couldn't help but grin as she thought back over the months, over the skirmishes and the arguments, the close calls and the moments of intense camaraderie. She realized with a satisfied smirk that even though she couldn't pin point the moment that Eden Advance had become one giant, dysfunctional family unit, it never the less had occurred, somewhere along the line.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry, Devon. In a few years Uly will hit puberty like a brick wall, and just think, then it will be John's turn."

Devon groaned, ducking into the Mess Tent, and shoving all the "what ifs" and the uncertainties out into the rain, where they belonged, Bess followed suit.


	9. Chapter 9

The wind swept through the shuddering tent, carrying with it each killing blow that struck at John Danziger's heart with surgical precision.

"…I don't need him to take care of me anymore…"

Shivering in the copse of sunken vinyl, he lost the ability to breathe, to think. Every fiber of his being was telling him to run out there, to snatch back what was rightfully his from these people masquerading as his friends; these women who he'd trusted countless times to keep his daughter safe. Had they truly done such a good job that his True-Girl had come to rely on the two surrogate mothers more than the only father that she'd ever known?

In the pit of his stomach, churning madly, was the insistent fear that True hadn't been wooed by them at all, but had simply realized everything he himself had failed to provide for her. Safety, security, tenderness--everything he'd spent his life scratching and clawing towards, things he'd been rationing out far too sparingly for far too long.

In his mind's eye he sees her, toddling along the filthy floor of the Quadrant barracks, chasing after a stray synth-puppy until she'd lost her precarious two-year-old balance. He'd been there to sweep her up, in time to kiss her oil streaked knees, but not soon enough--never watchful enough to keep the fall from happening.

All her life John had existed only for her, had broken his back for her, had given her the food from his mouth. But his own self sacrifice achieved nothing for the child who was endlessly striding to catch up, laboring beside him, starving right along with him.

"…I think that maybe…my mother? I don't think my Dad--"

The steady drumming of the rain punctuated each jolt, the electricity of his daughter's confessions arching through him like lightening. Danziger tried to quiet the thunderous screams careening around his brain, to listen for anything disprove his fears or salve the ragged wound being torn across his heart.

All he could hear was the wind and the rain. And the sickening affection in Devon Adair's voice.

"…Your secrets safe with us, okay?"

Fighting the urge to sag against the false security of the malleable shelter, he clutched his pack closer to his chest, fighting to keep his calm. Now more than ever he needed to get True away from here, make her see that he still loved her more than anything on any planet. He would keep the promise he'd made to her mother years ago, in that cramped medical bay.

_I'll protect her. I'll love her enough for both of us. We'll be okay._

She was just a little girl, she couldn't always see what was best for her. She didn't realize that the world was shit, that you couldn't rely on anyone to keep their word. Anyone you put your faith in would all eventually leave you stranded. She'd fallen for Gaal's advances, as sickeningly transparent as his seduction had been. And now these women, these people she'd been taught by Danziger himself were trustworthy, were offering her the one thing she'd truly always wanted.

A mother.

His trial had begun, and he needed gain his little girl's belief in him again before anymore irrevocable damage could be done. Before he awoke one morning, the victim of a clandestine group vote, to find himself left behind.

They'd done it to Julia. Danziger had taken a long look at his baby and he'd raised his hand just as eagerly as all the rest. He'd be damned if he was going to let it happen to him.

Shuddering, he tested the sting of his full weight on his injured leg. It was fine, he'd be fine.

With little warning, save for the slap of her boots in the mud, True barreled into the tent, right past where he was crouched. He held his breath as she took in the situation: the hastily emptied crates and overturned trunk, the empty cot with his damnable pair of blood-stained pants peeking from underneath.

"Dad?" She spoke loudly into the silence, and before she could turn around he moved forward in a flash, clamping a large hand over her mouth in a panic. Her skin was too cool to his touch, he should have never let her out in the rain.

"Shhh, True-Girl, it's me, it's okay," he coddled, whispering in her ear as she jerked against him in panic. "Shhh, baby. It's okay now." He kissed her cheek tenderly, slowly removing his hand, praying that she would understand the need for discretion.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" She asked in a small voice, trembling as he quickly bundled her in the blanket from his cot, resisting the urge to sweep her up into his arms like an infant.

"We're gonna get out of here, Sweetheart, just the two of us," he informed her proudly as he turned her around in his arms, reflexively kissing the crown of her head. Smiling at her upturned face, filled with confusion, he knelt in front of her. "You know how I'm always promisin' we'll go on an adventure? We're gonna go, okay? But we have to be really quiet, we can't let anyone know we're gone, or they'll try to stop us."

Strangely, she didn't seem excited at all, her pale brown eyes flooded with concern. For what? He wondered, for him? For someone else?

"Daddy, you need to rest some more…look at you." Whispering, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek.

"C'mon, True-Girl, just you and me! Just like the old times, before we got lost on this shankin' planet with all these strangers. We don't need them anymore, we never needed them, the Danzigers can take care of themselves, right?" He did his best not to waiver at her hesitance. It would just take a while, that was all. Once she saw how much better off they were on their own, she would see.

"Daddy…" He watched as she took great care choosing her words. "It's raining really hard out, and I told Bess I would--"

"Damnit, True! She's not your mother!" He barked, trading volume for ferocity. Startled at his loss of control, True instinctively jumped, and he was instantly filled with compunction. "I know you like spending time with Bess and Devon, but it's my turn now." He informed her more gently, unable to completely shake the gravity from his tone. He leaned in to rest his forehead against her shoulder, gripping her arms tightly. "It's my turn now, True-Girl. I'm your _father_."

"I know you are, Daddy," she murmured into his ear, "And I love you, and I think that maybe your sick--"

"I'm fine!" He snapped again, not moving from her embrace, taking these last few seconds to relish the sweet weight of her. "I'm fine. And I'll be even better once we get away from camp, once we get out there on our own, okay?"

Quivering like a bowstring pulled taut in his hands, he felt her trying to pull herself away. He cracked open an eyelid to see her hand fumbling at her side, pulling her Gear from her pocket.

"You can leave that behind, Sport, I don't think we're gonna need it," he declared dismissively, pulling himself together enough to relinquish his grip on her. Stiffly standing and pulling the blanket a bit tighter around her, he shuddered with sudden burst of pain.

"One of us should bring a set just in case--"

"Here, c'mere, let me see it for a sec." Cutting her off quickly, he tugged the set out of her small hand before she could protest. In a split second of tinkering he had pulled several wires loose, twisting the main console sharply. "Never liked wearing Adair's leash, anyway. There. Now it's a real adventure, right?" He asked lightly, tossing the set to the dirt floor of the tent where it issued a single spark.

True could do nothing but stare at him, speechless. He did his best to ignore the imploring gaze, she would thank him later, he was sure. Grabbing her hand, John pulled her forward, squeezing a bit tighter than he intended to, knowing she knew better than to complain.

His brain flashed again to their life in the Quadrant, remembering how daily life was a haze of tension and distrust; every face in the crowd rife with a predatory gaze. When a bar maid from a dive he frequented, no more than a few years older than True, had been found murdered, he'd fervently insisted she hold his hand whenever they left their unit for months after.

The fact that she was nearly ten years old at the time meant nothing. He didn't care if she was embarrassed, only that she was safe. Suddenly G889 felt just as dangerous.

"Daddy, don't forget the pack." True spoke up timidly, stopping him in his tracks. She scurried quickly to retrieve it, fumbling for a moment with her shoelace. Handing it to him, he slung it over his shoulder and pulled her closer to him as he ducked out of the tent. Scanning the surrounding area he tugged her around the back of the dome, where they could make a clean break for the Dunerail.

Luckily, Danziger usually pitched their tent within a stone's throw from the vehicles, to facilitate late night tinkering while still keeping an eye on his slumbering daughter. John was glad to see that most of camp was still indoors, and before True could issue the protest he could sense forming on her lips, he quickly lifted her as though she weighed nothing and deposited her in the passenger seat, tossing the pack into the cargo hold.

"We're on our way, True-Girl. Everything will be better this way, we should have done this from the get go. There's nothing for us in New Pacifica, that's nothing but a rich lady's dream." Mumbling absently, he secured the pack and climbed carefully into the driver's seat, hissing at the pain of his steadily throbbing leg. He blocked it out, concentrating on the overwhelming sense of hope he'd been feeling since he'd made the decision to make an escape.

True was sitting solemnly beside him, her face a storm front of emotions, none of them the one expression he longed to see--relief.

"What's the matter True-Girl?" He asked, starting up the vehicle, not really waiting for an answer. "There's no reason to be scared, Sport. I'm gonna protect you now, okay? I know I haven't been spendin' enough time with you, but now it's just us, and we're gonna have a great--"

"Where are you guys going?" The small voice piped up from the ATV, parked several feet from the 'Rail. Whipping his head around, Danziger found himself gazing into the inquisitive stare of Ulysses Adair.

John panicked for a moment, not sure of what he could say to keep Uly from running off to tattle to his mother. With a quick squeeze to True's shoulder to keep her quiet, he considered making a show; using his intimidating nature to scare the boy into silence. Quickly, he abandoned the thought. It wasn't the kid's fault that his mother had ruined their lives; Ulysses shouldn't feel guilty that her ruthless ambition had caught so many other innocent people in its wake. He loved Uly like a son, but now all that mattered was his daughter.

Still, he would miss him.

"Uly, you be good while I'm gone, okay? Don't go bugging your mother, give her some space for a while this afternoon, she's very busy." He knew it wouldn't be enough to stay the boy's inquiries to the rest of Eden Advance for very long, but it would buy he and True some time.

Leaning close into his daughter's ear, John whispered so only she could hear. "Say goodbye to Uly, baby." She gasped, turning to study his expression with tearful eyes.

"Daddy, please come with me to see Julia." She touched the back of his hand on the wheel with her own. "I don't want to go on an adventure, I want to stay here." He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear tenderly, shaking his head sadly.

"I know you do, True Girl. And that's why we have to go." Pressing his foot to the pedal, he began to slowly navigate around the stacked crates and other various piece of equipment. As he began to turn the vehicle away from camp, he heard Uly call from behind them in a curious voice.

"But where are you guys _going_?"

True turned her head to look longingly back as the Dunerail began to pick up speed. He held her hand in silent support, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Turning into a narrow gap between two patches of forest, Danziger closed his eyes against the steady pain in his leg, augmented by the 'Rail's vibration, and sighed under his breath.

"We're going home."


	10. Chapter 10

Devon was fairly certain that her fingernails were now permanently blue. The little juniper berries seemed to burst open with the slightest pressure, and she had yet to master the art of cleanly removing the downy, thistle-like stems. Bess had quickly applied a bit of antibacterial gel to her finger tips before beginning, so quickly Devon had barely had time to question the action before the first little berry exploded in her hand. Now Devon watched as the deep blue juice blossoming into tiny flora in the ridges of her battle-scarred finger nails.

Something about her own innocent mistake embarrassed her. Bess' preparation had obviously been hard-learned, and the leader herself became sharply aware of how little time she spent helping to prepare the group's meals. She wondered how many moments like this one she'd missed; insisting that her time would be better spent elsewhere.

Even today, she put off joining Bess and True in the Mess Tent, choosing first to spend some time with the navigational data, during which she'd gotten precisely _nothing_ accomplished. Her thoughts were all a jumble; Bess' sudden presence as a shoulder to lean on, True's casual proclamations regarding her memories of her mother, her most recent knock down, drag out brawl with Danziger-- all pf them fighting for dominance.

Eventually, she realized that all her posturing was nothing but a pretense. There was no route to plan, no new data to speak of, and even the prospect of dreaming up new scenarios to worry about with Yale didn't seem at all pro-active or appealing. What she needed, just this once, was not to think about anything. Finally, a few hours later, she ended where she'd begun, sitting next to Bess with a lap full of berries.

Most days, this would be exactly the type of mindless activity that she would try her best to escape doing altogether, but now somehow the task seemed soothing. The soft, slippery, visceral feel of the fresh fruit in her hands, the lulling drum of drizzle on the roof of the dome, and even-- _especially _-- the quiet lullaby-sweet babble of Bess beside her. She was tickled with the strange turn the morning had taken, that she'd suddenly found herself so comfortable in the Earth-Res' presence; this virtual stranger she'd spent the last eleven months with.

Devon was thrilling in her recent discovery that she didn't always have to be singular; alone in her experiences and feelings. And even if she wasn't quite ready to share her emotions with everyone so openly, it had never occurred to her that anyone else could even _understand_ them. Now sitting here, turning into The Creature from the Synth Lagoon, she realized she been a fool.

Truly _being_ with others didn't always mean you had to give pieces of yourself away. The heart to heart that she and Bess had shared with True had shown her all the gifts there were to receive, if you opened yourself to the experiences of others.

"…And so I was telling her about summer vacation, and True seems to think it should definitely be enforced once we start cultivating crops at New Pacifica." Bess shook her head, chuckling as she expertly plucked three stems at once, tossing the whole berries into a pot filled with cool water to rinse.

It took Devon a minute to catch up to the conversation, which she then decided had gotten too far away from her to be salvaged.

She smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry Bess, I was light years away. Um, summer vacation?"

Bess nodded eagerly, clearing a large pile of stems into the small flame she'd started in a stone ring on the floor. Devon had been flummoxed as to why she didn't just use one of the Therma-Plates until Bess revealed that the sweetest jam had to be stewed over an open flame, and that was that.

"Summer vacation is pretty much the sweetest sound an Earth-Res kid can hear," she smiled fondly, remembering. "It's an earth thing- an _old_ earth tradition that just sort of stuck. Back before pre-modern technology, when children of farmers were needed to help harvest crops through the warmest months. The children wouldn't attend school for two or three months of the year. Summer vacation. Anyway, True insists it's going to be vital to the success of the colony." She finished with a smirk, seeing Devon's skepticism.

"Oh, I'm sure she does. And I'm willing to bet Uly also has a strong opinion on the matter."

Her son was growing up to be so much like her in so many ways, it wouldn't surprise Devon in the least if he'd come up with a speech for her in their tent this evening, one that would no doubt outline the benefits of putting 'summer vacation' into practice. As much as she appreciated that he was well behaved, sometimes she just wished he'd throw a good old fashioned tantrum for once.

There was something completely endearing about those seldom, yet sure as the tide, screaming matches that took place in the Danziger tent. Or anywhere else in camp, for that matter. She felt humbled in the presence of John's fierce, all-encompassing love for his daughter and the rays of affection that shone in True's eyes when he dad returned home, whether it be from a week long scout or from just across the campsite. Despite the fact Devon loved her son more than life itself, that she'd crossed the galaxy to give him a chance at life, the Danziger's relationship sometimes made her feel like she and Ulysses were business acquaintances at best.

"My father never mourned my mother's passing." Bess' abrupt subject change took her breath away for a moment, and studying the Earth-Res' carefully composed face Devon realized this was the conversation that Bess had really wanted to have all along.

"I'm convinced it's what killed him at such an early age. It was like one day she was there, and the next she was gone, and after the shock of it all he just woke up one morning having convinced himself she had never existed. If he ever once shed a tear, or took solace in the memories he had of her, we never saw him do it.

"He was a truly great father, don't get me wrong! He gave my siblings and I everything we needed and he did it with grace, but he wouldn't give himself an inch. And then he was gone, too. It wasn't until all my friends and family commented to me how it was so sudden, so unexpected, that I realized that they couldn't be more wrong. It had never occurred to me just how long a person's body can survive when their heart is broken."

Two small berries plinked into the metal pot, and Devon learned another important lesson of the kitchen. Talking was fine; baring your deepest thoughts and fears was totally acceptable-- as long as you kept working while you did it.

A hundred questions floated to the surface of Devon's mind at Bess' soft confession. Had her father truly never loved again? Hadn't his love for his children been --wasn't John's love for True enough? Did she think Danziger's well-being was honestly in that much jeopardy? How can you convince a man that strong it's okay to be weak?

"Oh my gosh, Devon, don't look so pained!" Bess' laughter restored the balance in the room like a breeze blowing aside the curtain of shadows. "I didn't mean for it to sound so grim! My father's life was his own, and even though Danziger and my father are cut from the same cloth, they are two very different pairs of pants!."

Devon attempted a small smile, and Bess leaned in until Devon was forced to meet her eyes. "My father spent his whole life on Earth, in the same mines his father helped drill and on the land where his family had been living for generations. He was surrounded, for better or worse, by his family. If he'd been a loner like John, I'm sure he would have made new friends, shared new loves. Besides, Arthur Klempt was always a solitary, reserved soul. He wouldn't be caught dead having a shouting match in the middle of camp with his daughter over lost socks, and he would never have allowed himself to be so bold as to take the risks John takes for those he cares about. In many ways, John has had a lot more to lose in his lifetime than my father ever did. But that just means he still has so much to gain."

Devon found herself nodding, not trusting herself to speak. Instead, she concentrated on keeping the berries intact as she removed stem after stem.

"Don't tell me True's willingly submitting to a math lesson. Where'd she run off to?" She finally asked, clearing her throat, not quite ready to comment on Bess' so aptly put observations regarding the girl's father. Bess finished shucking the last of her pile, shrugging as she used a dish rag to wipe the gel from her fingertips.

"Actually, she never turned up. I think she just needed to spend some time with her dad. She's been worrying about him probably as much as we've been." She gathered the last of Devon's pile and added them to the pot along with her own, carefully draining the sediment-ridden water and rinsing them again.

It was a strange sensation for Devon to take such a comment in stride. Normally, she'd be running her mouth, eager to convince Bess that she wasn't at all worried about John Danziger. Just yesterday, she would have been insisting emphatically that he could take care of himself. Of course, now that the cat was out of the bag that this simply wasn't true, it didn't stop Devon from feeling a slight blush rising on her cheeks. Dear lord, she'd spent so many months on this planet lying to herself and to everyone else about her relationship with Danziger, and now she could see with clarity and chagrin that she hadn't succeeded in fooling anyone but herself.

"Well, then I hope they're both getting the rest they deserve," she added, reaching for a small broken piece from one of the long-since jettisoned mesh grids of the 'Rover. It had been rigged with a spoke from the ATV as a handle.

Devon remembered the day a few months back when Danziger had unceremoniously plopped the crooked shard of metal next to Bess' dinner plate, giving the Earth-Res a quick wink as he sat down across from her and began rapidly shoveling down meager Spirolina rations. As she gently took the instrument from Devon and began methodically mashing the berries, a quiet chuckle from Bess signified that she recalled it as well.

"You remember when Danziger made this for me?" Bess mused, standing from her stool for better leverage.

"_I found you a masher, so you'd better find me some potatoes." _Devon quoted from memory, knowing that there probably wasn't a soul in Eden Advance who didn't remember that particular gem of 'Danziger Logic.' Bess laughed, wiping a rogue splatter of berry from her cheek.

"You know, every time I use this thing, I look forward to someday making poor John a decent meal."

"He's a piece of work." Devon sighed, unconsciously slipping back into her old routine. At the first sign of affection it was de rigueur to say something derogatory. That was how she handled all topics involving John Danziger, wasn't it? Bess took her comment with a grain of salt, gently reminding Devon to look at it a different way.

"He's a _considerate_ piece of work, Devon. I don't want to fix him dinner because he's always griping about rations like Morgan or Baines, I just want to because…well, he made me a masher." Bess had the peculiar ability to imbue even the most matter of fact statement with a deeper emotional significance, and Devon immediately knew exactly what her friend was trying to say.

So, he'd made Bess a masher. He'd made Alonzo a splint. He'd made Uly _mobile_--and ultimately gotten him literally up and running again, despite her maternal paranoia. He'd made his daughter a home, time and time again, no matter where the work had taken them. Of course, more often than not he'd made Devon herself just plain _furious_.

She was beginning to realize that maybe that was his gift to her; the ability to feel so strongly about another human being that the actual emotions themselves didn't so much matter. Maybe he'd been calling her bluff this whole time, patiently waiting for the day she would realize he was saving her a spot on the inside of the joke.

Devon caught the rustle of movement in her peripheral vision, and turned to see her son had somehow snuck into the tent with neither she nor Bess being the wiser. He was currently crouched, rooting through the small bin of fruit the recent excess of vegetation had enabled them to offer as "snacks" operating with a sort of 'take a penny, leave a penny' sensibility. It encouraged the Edenites to always keep an eye out for more provisions, and lessened the chance of the entire bin falling victim to Morgan's private stash.

Devon noticed, with a slight furrow of the brow, that her son was acting awfully furtively for someone who wasn't doing anything wrong. Which meant that he probably was.

"What are you up to, Uly?" She asked good naturedly, watching as Bess expertly siphoned the mashed berries from the small amount of juice that had accumulated at the bottom of the pot. Devon knew the Earth Res would most likely use it later to flavor whatever bland concoction would ultimately be served for dinner. They'd found in recent months that just because the native vegetation was edible, it didn't necessarily mean it tasted that way. Bess Martin had an arsenal of tricks up her sleeve for combating this problem.

"Nothing mom, I'm just getting a snack," Uly responded mechanically, finally settling on a small oblong piece of fruit that had quickly become a favorite with the kids. Despite it's mottled brown, somewhat fuzzy exterior, the juicy green pulp hidden inside was almost sickeningly sweet. Rising from his crouch, her son quickly brushed off his knees and made a bee line for the exit.

"Hey, Uly, come here for a second," she beckoned, more amused than concerned about his behavior. Head ducked, he sidled over to the table, and she reached out to grab him and give him a peck on the cheek, ruffling his hair despite the slight glare she received for treating him like such a little boy. "How you doing out there, you're not getting soaked are you?" She carefully patted the sleeves of his jersey. He seemed reasonably dry, considering. Uly shrugged, darting an eye toward the tent flap. With a bit of difficulty, he scrambled up onto the stool next to her own, his pendulous feet nearly a foot off the ground.

"You don't have to worry about me mom," he assured her somberly, without a trace of the usual sarcasm reserved for children exasperated with their parents. "I know you're busy."

Devon felt a small chuckle escape at his seriousness tone, and beside her she heard Bess do the same.

"Well, I'm not _that_ busy, Honey." Uly deflected his gaze towards the entrance once again, the worry lines in Devon's brow deepening at his despondent face. "Are you lonely out there without True? You could show me how to play your Sheriff vid," she offered, knowing he'd never turn down a chance to play with someone who would let him be the hero in every round.

At the mention of True, a fleeting trace of something Devon couldn't name clouded her son's eyes.

"I guess she needed some time with her dad all to herself, " he mumbled, the slightest bitterness in his tone. Devon and Bess shared a brief look of understanding.

"Don't worry, Uly." Bess smiled sympathetically. "She's just wants to see that her dad gets some rest."

"Yeah, you'll see her later, Champ." Devon stroked his hair, bending to meet the boy's eyes. "Why don't you run and get our Gear, I want to see how you handle that six shooter you're always telling me about." Smiling a bit, Uly wiggled off the stool and landed with a boyish squeak.

"That's okay, Mom. Mr. Danziger said not to bother you. Besides, I'm building a fort!"

Shrugging off the boy's mention of Danziger's warning as a general edict rather than a single occurrence, Devon rolled her eyes in Bess' general direction. This was yet another prime example of their differing parenting styles.

"Well, okay, but be careful. And come inside if it starts coming down again, okay?" She knew full well he'd be soaked to the bone before he even thought of coming inside. While all the Edenites still harbored a bit of childlike curiosity at the feel of actual rain, none more so than the actual children. Well, the children and, amusingly, Denny Walman.

"I will." Uly answered automatically. He'd made it almost as far as the door when Devon called to him again, helping Bess lift the heavy pot of mashed berries over the fire.

"And later on we'll find True and you can both teach me how too lasso those outlaws, okay?" She promised, expecting a much different response than the one she received.

"When are the coming back?" Uly asked, a bit of his prior irritation returning.

"When is who coming back, Uly?" Bess inquired as she wiped her hands on a nearby dishrag.

"True and her dad. They wouldn't tell me where they were going," he informed the two women sullenly. Before Devon could make heads or tails of this revelation, Baines blustered into the Mess Tent with a flurry of flailing sun-bronzed arms and sunny yellow tarpaulin.

"Devon, you'd better get out here! Zero's gone bananas and I can't find Danziger!"

Without offering any further explanation, he exited and took off again at a run, and out of sheer force of habit Devon was up and running toward the next crisis even as she struggled to wrap her brain around just what the hell Uly had meant. Correctly assuming that Bess and her son had followed suit, she addressed them without looking back.

"Stay with Bess! I don't want you anywhere near a malfunctioning Zero Unit, Uly, do you understand me? Why don't you go get Mr. Danzi--"

"He's not _here_, mom! I told you, he and True took the Rail! I want to see what's going on!" He jumped up and down at her side, and just across the clearing she could hear several of the crew members shouting, only to be answered by the cool, detached and incredibly irritating voice of Zero.

"What do you mean, Uly? He's supposed to be in his tent resting with True." Bess asked anxiously. The two of them skidded to a halt when Devon stopped short, whirling around.

"Uly, did you see them leave?" She asked gravely, and the boy nodded distractedly, watching the frantic goings on several yards away. "Where where they going?"

"Mom, I _told_ you! They wouldn't tell me, they just got in the 'Rail and Mr. Danziger told me not to bother you, and then they--"

"Devon! We need you over here _now, _it's destroying the 'Rover!" Walman's demand rose above all the other rabble, and Devon shook her head in disbelief, torn between the situation at hand and hearing the rest of Uly's story.

"Go, Devon! I'll keep him away, and we'll have a little chat, okay?" With a swift nod, Devon accepted Bess' offer and did her best to run across the rain slicked terrain towards the chaos.

"…at 09:43 my voice recognition lock was activated by Danziger, John."

Devon didn't have the slightest clue as to what was happening, but as she drew close enough to hear the Zero's declaration, she realized that their mechanical problems had just become a another matter all together.

"Override!" Cameron shouted angrily, ducking just in time to narrowly avoid being struck by the Transrover's mammoth hood, which had been completely removed and weightlessly hefted by Zero. The robot placed the giant piece of metal gently on the ground in a growing pile of components. Devon could see that several of the "wheels" had been unbolted, and the vehicle's rubberized tread had been cleanly severed, twisting like tree roots from where it was pinned by the weight of the cab.

"Zero Unit override! Voice command override!" Cameron continued, shouting frantically.

"I'm sorry, I'm unable to accept any override command that does not match the voiceprint of Danziger, John. Rest assured, I am fully equipped to perform this operation. I come with a complete line of vehicle assembly accessories." With frustratingly deliberate movements, Zero returned to the front end of the mining vehicle and with a series of sharp, clanking noises it removed what could only be a vital piece of circuitry before adding it to the pile.

"Damnit, Baines, what's the damn _code_!" Walman shouted from where he, along with Mazatl, Denner and Magus stood in a half circle around the renegade unit, futilely watching the robot's methodic destruction. They knew better than to attempt approaching the unit, less they be seriously injured by its strength. Baines was hanging out of the cab, relentlessly pushing buttons on the computer dash.

"The entire system is down!" He shouted angrily. "Not only is the vehicle not responding, but the navigational equipment and data log are completely non responsive!"

As Zero purposefully strode past the newly arrived leader, Devon could see what was clearly the 'Rover's engine being effortlessly deposited in the pile.

"What the hell is it doing?" She asked a acutely pissed off Magus, jumping at the loud thump of another half-ton of metal hitting the ground.

"Where's the damn manual!" Alonzo shouted from the Worm Tent nearby, where he was riffling through a stack of data pads frantically.

"It's taking the shankin' thing apart, piece by piece!" Magus informed her with a tinge of panic in her voice. "It's telling us John ordered a complete disassembly!"

Devon could understand the woman's fears, having always had an aversion to mankind's dependence on Droids and Zeros. She knew there had never been an officially recorded instance of a Zero Unit ever harming a human being, but there had been rumors in the upper-echelon that, during testing, the newest models of Domestic Aide Units had become noncompliant, even territorial.

"Lonz, you gotta find that manual…" Walman nearly begged, as Zero easily unbolted the six-foot radiator grille.

"I come with a complete internal manual feature," Zero informed them nonchalantly as he continued to work, "Feel free to ask any questions you may have about my functions and features."

Hoping that the disaster could be averted by simply asking the right question, Devon spoke loudly to Zero, carefully choosing her words.

"Zero, I have a question! What is the factory reset code on this unit?" By the time she'd finished asking, everyone was silent enough to hear a pin drop, hoping for a small miracle.

"All reset, abort and modify codes are classified under Voiceprint Auto-Protect. At 09:43 my Voice Recognition Lock was activated by Danziger, John. Unfortunately, I can only acknowledge code requests from Danziger, John's voiceprint."

Devon rolled her eyes, dropping her face into her hands.

"And where the hell IS he?" Cameron demanded angrily. Devon doubted she'd ever seen the engineer so angry. "Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Danziger, John. Chief of Operations for Starship Roanoke. Immigrant Worker number 72354160. I'm am currently secured to his voiceprint." Zero supplied helpfully as the Transrover listed dangerously to one side. The crew scattered, Baines skittishly leaping from the cab.

Devon was at a complete loss as to what to do but she knew that, before they could try to locate John and True, they had to stop the Zero Unit from completely dismantling their only source of mass transportation. It made no sense that Danziger would leave without telling anyone he was taking the 'Rail to begin with, but it was inconceivable that he would willingly sabotage anything that the group relied on to survive. And even if he would, he would _never_ damage the 'Rover. To him it would be akin to murdering a human being, both in terms of his affection for the vehicle and what its loss would mean to Eden Advance.

"It's just taking it apart? For no good reason?" She asked the crew, flabbergasted. "Has it said anything about useful about what 'task' it's completing?"

"It just keeps saying 'currently scheduled Vehicle Disassembly and Maintenance,'" Alonzo commiserated as he approached the leader from behind, having admitted defeat in finding the cargo manifest documents.

"Zero, what is your currently scheduled task?" Devon asked quickly, infuriated by the oxymoron of such a machine, with it's calm, humanoid voice and computer driven circuitry impossible to reason with.

"I am currently executing task number 9948276, Complete Vehicle Disassembly and Maintenance. Assigned by Danziger, John at 09:47. I am currently secured--"

"We understand, Zero!" She shouted at the machine in frustration.

"Wait a second, Zero. Repeat task information!" Walman suddenly spoke up, and when he did so several other crew members began nodding, as though they understood what Walman was hoping to achieve with the command. Devon didn't have the slightest clue.

"I am currently executing task number 9948276, Complete Vehicle Disassembly and Maintenance. Assigned by Danziger, John at 09:47. I am currently secured by his voiceprint. Start time of task 11:00. Estimated completion time of task 22:35. Next scheduled task, number 9948317. Day 246, 11:00." With another metallic screech the Transrover leveled out once again, now sitting a good two feet closer to the ground, all six of its wheels completely removed.

"Zero, give me task information for number 9948317!" Walman demanded quickly, and the robot cheerfully replied.

"Task number 9948317, Vehicle Assembly and Systems Reboot." As Devon deciphered what this new information meant, the crew began to grumble angrily. Cameron threw his hands up in the air and let out an oath, kicking one of the detached wheels in frustration.

"What a bastard," Magus sighed, abruptly stomping back towards her tent in a fury. It was raining harder now, and despite Zero's continued dissection of the 'Rover, it looked as though several crew members were admitting defeat and moving back towards camp.

"What does that mean, Walman?" Devon asked impatiently. From the corner of her eye she could see Bess quickly making her way over to the Transrover, slipping and sliding every few feet.

"That shankin' maniac is playing some sort of prank, Devon. He's programmed Zero to take apart every single system and then rebuild the whole damn thing in twenty four hours!" Devon shook her head in disbelief.

"But why? Why would Danziger ever do something like that? He's been working on these vehicles for days! None of this makes any sense! Where could he have gone? Why would he leave without telling anyone?"

"And why would he take True?" Denner asked quietly, her eyes wide with worry. "He's been warning her that she's going to catch a cold since it started raining! He would never take her farther than they could explore on foot."

Breathless, Bess finally arrived at their sides, her face grave.

"Their tent looks like it's been completely ransacked. All of their belongings are gone, and everything else is toppled." Holding something up for inspection, she continued. "I found John's Gear on the bunk, he didn't take it with him." Instead of the usual anger and annoyance that would swell inside her at such a discovery, Devon felt a pang of panic deep in her stomach.

"Does True have hers? Did she have it on this morning?" Bess nodded quickly.

"Yes, she was definitely wearing it when we were foraging earlier. I think she's still got it, Devon, I didn't find it in the tent." Taking a moment to compose herself, Bess met Devon's gaze with a nervous intensity. "What is he doing, Devon? Where would he go? Why would he leave us?"

Devon felt a strange sense of comfort as Bess confirmed the awful notion she'd been desperately trying to quell in her own line of thinking. Though she had no idea how, and certainly no idea _why_, Devon was instinctively sure that this wasn't some kind of misunderstanding. This was no routine scout or spur of the moment father/daughter adventure. He'd taken their personal effects, he'd left behind his gear, and he'd effectively sabotaged the one way anyone would be able to track him down.

She stared at Bess in shock. The ramifications of John's desertion were impossible to comprehend. Grabbing Devon by both shoulders, Bess leaned in, as to be out of earshot of the dwindling group.

"Devon, he's sick. I think he's very, very sick," she said calmly, explicitly, at the same time soothing the leader's angst and prodding her to action. Bess was right, there was time to worry about the 'how' and 'why' later. At the moment they had to concentrate fully on the 'where.' Wherever Danziger had run off to, he was physically exhausted and exposed to the elements. He had, in his care, a small and most likely terrified child. And he was hurting. Whatever personal demons had reared their ugly heads, they were killing him.

"How can we track him, Bess, there has to be some way…" She jumped at a sudden wetness on her cheek only to realize it wasn't falling rain, but tears that had welled in her eyes without permission. Bess wisely chose not to acknowledge them.

"Alonzo and Julia have already gone off in the ATV. They're not going to be able to cover much ground in this weather, but they're going to look for any tracks of the 'Rail. Walman is fuming, he wanted to go himself but I, um, I strongly _implied_ that Julia should be the one to go with. I didn't want to get everyone in a panic." Devon nodded, scanning her mind for any clues, and way that she could somehow predict the musings of this man who had suddenly become a stranger.

"Oh my gosh, the Gear Logs!" Bess exclaimed suddenly, instantly starting back for camp, trusting Devon would follow.

"What about them? Bess, I don't really think Danziger is the type who would keep a diary log--" Bess found it somewhere in her heart to chuckle, cutting her off. The sound was like salve on a wound.

"I highly doubt Danziger even knows how to _work_ a diary function, Devon, but the Gear Log records the date and times of all transmissions. We might not be able to get any information about where he went, but we might be able to figure out where he was trying to go or what he was trying to accomplish. It would be a start in the right direction," she persisted, nodding in agreement with herself.

"If he went so far as to change Zero's settings, why on earth wouldn't he secure his own Gear?" The leader asked wearily, nearly falling as the ground beneath her shifted and squished. It did nothing to help the off kilter whirling of her thoughts.

"There's a chance he didn't think of it, Devon. He obviously hasn't been thinking very clearly." Bess caught Devon's arm to steady her as the rainfall increased, the wind whipping it from all directions. "Besides, even if it is locked, there's not an encryption system in existence that Morgan can't figure out. He's a genius with the things."

Devon nodded, hearing what Bess was saying even as she couldn't fully assimilate it.

Every moment she'd spent with Danziger over the past few days was being psychologically analyzed. Every gruesome, uncomfortable combative verbal spar; every ache and pain, every wince was being cataloged. When she did speak again, what she heard coming out of her mouth was nothing like what she was thinking.

She was thinking that there had to be a logical reason for Danziger to flee so suddenly. She was thinking that they needed to get Morgan out of that damn VR game and that he needed to crack John's gear as soon as possible. She was thinking that they needed to organize search parties to go out on foot with jumpers to look for some trace of Danziger's direction. They had to act now, and they had to act fast.

"He's out there in the rain, Bess," was all she could say. "He's hurt and he's alone out there with True."

Over and over.

Stopping all forward motion, Bess quickly swept the distraught woman into her arms, hugging her with such force it bordered on pain. They were right in the middle of camp, and it should have bothered Devon to have such a moment of vulnerability right here for all to see, but at that moment it was the furthest thing from her mind. She took a deep breath, grateful that Bess hadn't bothered to try placating her with niceties and false promises, and when the Earth-Res pulled away she met Devon's eyes with complete conviction.

"Let's go rip that set off my husband's head."


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: Check out a (sorta, kinda) companion video to this story,_ _"Digital Ghost", at YouTube!_

* * *

Her dad was loosing it. 

True had seen him exhausted, before, but this was different somehow. He wasn't groanin' about taking off his shoes and getting some shut-eye, like he always used to when he'd finally arrive home to their unit on the stations after working double duty. He wasn't saying much of anything at all, just mumbling about things she couldn't understand about going 'home.'

They'd been driving at a breakneck pace for at least three or four hours, True figured. She'd long ago lost most of the feeling in her fingers and toes. The whip of the wind and rain had somehow found its way into her boots and her parka, the metal frame of the Dune Rail providing little protection.

Her dad seemed oblivious to the fact that he had been shivering violently over the last stretch of open road. He seemed unaware of almost anything, staring into the distance in a way that made it pretty obvious he wasn't seeing anything at all.

True was a smart enough kid to realize this wasn't about going on an adventure at all, but what he could mean by 'home' made no sense to her. As far as she figured, the only place they had to call home was back with Eden Advance. This morning during her conversation with Devon and Bess, she'd realized they were probably right; that her dad probably didn't want to go back to their tiny room on the stations anymore than she did. Where else did that leave? Where were they running to?

Back when they'd left camp, he'd told her to say goodbye to Uly. Her dad _hated_ that word, he said it always sounded too final, and if you were talking to someone you hoped to see again it was better sometimes just to say "See ya later!" or "So long!"

He'd always told her to save her goodbyes for when they really counted, that way life seemed like you were always meeting people again, and not always leaving them.

After Les and Alex got sick, when her father was feeling better, they'd snuggled up in his bunk and talked about all the special times they'd shared with their friends. Ever since he'd contracted the virus, her dad said sometimes he would remember the strangest things. He confessed that he's never realized what a big part of his life Les and Alex truly were; how many long days and raucous nights spent in their company.

He told her that even though it had been awful to be so sick, he had gotten through it. And now he would always have those memories he'd thought he'd lost forever. He wouldn't really tell her what most of them were, and she was sure that some of 'em were things that were probably better off forgotten, but he seemed happier for it.

He'd been braiding her hair, like he did when she was a very little girl, when True asked him if it would ever not hurt so much, missing Wentworth and Firestein. Her father had whispered that it had almost been worse to think they had died in the crash landing with so many others. He told her that he would always miss them, cause they were two of his best friends, but at least he had gotten a chance to say goodbye.

Her dad swerved the 'Rail quickly, and she stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. The path ahead seemed pretty clear, but her dad was all over the road, and he tried to stretch his left leg with a grimace. He'd been doing this on and off since they'd left camp, when he thought she wasn't looking.

Her dad was pretty much always getting himself scrapes and bumps and bruises, but he never really complained about them. Mostly he pretended they didn't exist, and so she'd learned that the best way to deal with him was to go along with it. He didn't like other people worryin' about him when they had better things to be doing. True knew that, even though he'd never admit it, when Alonzo and the other guys teased him about being accident prone, it really hurt his feelings.

After the ZED attacked camp, she knew her dad was feeling pretty cruddy, but he was walking around the very next day not at all like he'd had a bullet in his gut. When they'd broke camp, she found Dad watching Alonzo crutch his way over to the Transrover, where Walman and Cameron helped him climb aboard. She'd kept silent, knowing he probably wasn't in a talking mood, so he'd surprised her when he suddenly spoke up.

"I may not be able to pull my own weight, True-Girl." He'd said. "But your old man won't ever be a weight for someone else to carry." That was the last they'd ever talked about how he was feeling. True knew if it didn't matter to him, she should pretend it didn't matter to her either.

Of course it mattered, she reflected furiously as she grabbed on to the railing. It seemed like her dad was going out of his way to hit every rock and crater he could find. He may not always take care of himself, but he looked after the vehicles like they were her brothers and sisters.

Her dad was definitely losing it.

She reached into her pocket, her hand closing around the broken Gear she'd pocketed when she'd stopped to tie her shoe back in their tent. She was pretty sure it was fried, but she hoped that maybe she could at least get it to send out a distress signal or something, anything to help the others find them. Her fingers sightlessly sought out the controls, and she pushed nearly every button, hoping that the headset wouldn't start beeping.

"…shakin' rain. Can't see straight." Her dad mumbled to himself. He cursed again, slamming the wheel with the palm of his hand, and True couldn't tell if it was because of the elements, or if he was in pain, or just plain fed up. She didn't know at who or what, but her dad was definitely furious. She hadn't seen him this angry in a long time.

Shivering in the driving rain, catching glimpse of a stray arc of lightening in the distance, True didn't need any mysterious memory virus to remember, clear as day, the last time she'd seen her father this angry.

When she'd run off to see Gaal that second time, after her dad had already come to 'rescue' her once in the same vehicle they rode in now, he hadn't spoken a word to her for almost two days. She knew he wanted to "simmer down" before he said something he'd regret, but that had been the longest two days of her life! She had almost convinced herself that he was going to stay angry forever, and she'd felt especially horrible because she'd _known_ that helping Gaal was wrong, but she hadn't cared.

She had been sick of this Godforsaken planet and of Uly for always being everyone's favorite. She had been tired of sharing her dad with everyone else. Gaal had said he liked _her_ the best. He said she was his Poppet, and she'd wanted to believe him so bad she even ran away from camp _again_. She still secretly hoped that, despite what her Dad said, Gaal had at least been telling the truth about that.

But at times like these, moments when she was worried for her dad and she found their roles reversed, True could understand why her dad had been so furious. She was scared to death. Scared _for_ him, because she kept telling herself if she was scared for him she couldn't possibly be scared _of_ him.

"Daddy, I think we should stop for a while. Yale says it's important to seek shelter in a lightening storm. He said if it hits you, it'll fry your brains right inside your skull."

"Well, Yale's not right about everything, True girl. You're more likely to die from a bee sting than get struck by lightening." Yale had told her and Uly that, too, but she knew better than to talk back to him right now. Instead, she decided to play along.

"What's a bee, Dad?" She asked, already pretty much knowing, but kind of confused. The sounded so mean she expected them to be the size of a Koba, or bigger, even, but Yale kept insisting that they were tiny insects, and that they weren't really important to the lightening lesson.

"Not sure, True-Girl. Maybe you should ask Bess. Bess knows everything, right?" His face was stony, and it was pretty much then that she realized he'd stopped making sense all together.

Gently, she put her hand over his, in a mirror image of how he'd squeezed her when they were sneaking away from camp. It had been him reminding her that he was beside her, begging her to understand somehow. She wanted her dad to know that she was trying.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" She whispered, and he flinched at her voice and touch as though he'd just discovered what a bee was after all. The Dune Rail sailed into another rut with a splash that made True wince.

Her dad didn't answer, not with words. But he shook his head "no" with his jaw clenched, the little thingamabob in his throat bouncing up and down like it did when he was really thirsty. He closed his eyes for a long moment, disregarding the road completely.

True just wanted it all to stop- the rain, the frightening speed of the 'Rail, the pain and the fears that were making her dad crazy. She wanted her dad to stop running blind before he got them both killed.

"Why are you so angry at Devon and Bess? The only want to help us--"

"True, stop it." He whispered, wiping the rain from his cheeks as though his daughter was capable of singling out the tears. She continued on, fighting for calm, doing her best to eliminate the fright in her voice.

"They love us, Dad! There part of our family now and they--"

"Just_ stop_ it!" Her dad shouted, his foot slamming down harder on the gas petal. The vehicle surged forward, turning the fat droplets raining on them into tiny needles, stinging True's face. "I'm your family! You already have a family, True Eleanor Danziger!"

"Daddy, please! Slow down, Daddy!" True's heart beat rapidly, as if a sudden sense-memory readied her body for Evac Pod 3 to collide with planet G889 all over again. Her father had comforted her then, whispering into her ear that they would be fine, that he would hold her tight.

The day of the crash landing had been the first time in True Danziger's life when she had been consciously aware that he father was lying to her. Maybe it had been his sturdy chest behind her, hitching and trembling with fear, or just that she was old enough to realize that her father had no say in whether or not they would survive the crash. It had been the first time she'd wondered--for only a split second-- if she could trust her father to always be honest with her.

Today was the second time.

The 'Rail was out of control, careening from side to side, and True clutched her father's arm with both hands, knowing she was making it worse but unable to pry her fingers loose.

"Daddy, you have to stop!" She begged, tears welling in her eyes. The tears somehow cleared the blur of the driving rain, and she could see now that her father was crying openly, as though he could no longer contain it.

"Don't you ever think about your mother? Doesn't she mean anything to you?" He implored wildly, swerving sharply to the left to follow a clearer path. The two heavy duty tires caught the lip of crumbling, slushy earth and the 'Rail pitched sharply sideways.

Suddenly True was weightless, and she realized, terrified, that the two wheels on her side of the 'Rail had lifted from the ground. Gasping, she found the courage to release her hold on her father and threw all her weight to the other side of the vehicle. The Dune Rail slammed back to earth with a sharp jolt, and True pitched forward, striking her cheek smartly on the metal frame of the carriage.

Biting her lip, she sat straight up in her seat, taking a deep breath.

Her dad had lost it.

"Vehicle Emergency Halt!" The 'Rail's engine immediately ceased functioning, just like her father had told her it would when he had taught she and Uly all about vehicle safety.

The vehicles automatic break system whirred into life, rapidly decelerating at regular intervals. Her dad let out a gasp of surprise as the 'Rail skidded quickly to a halt. Sending him forcefully into the steering column, his legs crushed slamming painfully against the bar at his shins.

Dad had taught her and Uly about all the parts of the 'Rail. He'd shown them all the controls, and even how to accelerate and steer, before making them both solemnly swear that they would never even think of driving them. He said it was important that every member of the group know how to operate the vehicles. He'd also mentioned six or seven ways he'd be happy to punish them if he ever caught them _operating_ the vehicles.

She knew all this stuff, so she knew that Emergency Halt was not to be used when the vehicle was traveling so fast. Yet, just as she had hoped, the lack of traction that had been hindering them became their saving grace. True held on for dear life as the treacherous mud assisted their slower, safer stop.

Her dad was still slumped against the steering column, but one look at him and True knew that he hadn't been hurt by the sudden stop. He was sobbing, his face pressed against the tarnished metal of the wheel. True took a moment to catch her breath, hunched forward in front of the seat, eye level with her fathers hand, hanging almost low enough to touch the undercarriage. She took his hand, squeezing hard.

"True-Girl…I'm so sorry. I'm _so_ sorry." He gasped, his voice a barely audible, watery whimper.

"Everything's going to be all right, Dad." She crooned, flinching as he tried to move his leg and cried out in pain.

"Baby, I didn't mean to go so fast, I couldn't look at her anymore. I know you love your mother, I know you--" She shushed him again, climbing into the seat beside him.

"Stop talking, Daddy. You're sick and you need to calm down, okay?" With all her strength she managed to get underneath him and push him up until he was sitting back in the chair. Though he was soaked to the bone she could a feel his fever heat where her face rested against his throat. True was worried sick, but that didn't mean she wasn't furious with him, too. "You need to rest for a few minutes, understand?"

Her dad lifted his head from his chest to smile at her blearily, nodding as though he had been thoroughly chastised.

"Sweetheart…" True shook her head, still shaken and more than a little unsteady herself.

"Not another word, Dad. We're gonna sit here and catch our breath. End of discussion."

He lifted his hand as though he was weighted to his side, reaching out to touch her cheek, his thumb worrying the bruise that was already beginning to blossom. His red eyes quaked with a tremor of emotion.

True felt her own tears come in a rush as her father gently pulled her against his chest, clutching at her as though he'd thought he'd thought he'd lost her. They sat there for long minutes, the two of them in the rain. Her dad kept mumbling that he was so sorry, over and over, but he seemed to be getting himself under control.

"I need your help, True-Girl." He whispered hoarsely. It was practically nothing, but True thought it was the most her Dad had sounded like himself since they'd left camp.

"I know, Daddy. I want to help you, but I need you to tell me what's wrong." She sighed as the feather light sensation of her father stroking her hair stopped for a moment, hesitant. It suddenly occurred to True that even _he_ might not know the answer, but his answer came quickly, in a rush.

"I'm so scared. I'm so scared I'm forgettin' her…" True didn't ask who. She didn't need to.

She didn't know much about her mom, despite her dad's recent strained attempts to tell her more, but she was well aware of how much her dad had loved her. Sometimes, when he would tell True stories about her--like the time she started a fist fight in a bar full of men--all of the worry wrinkles on his forehead would disappear. She would sit enrapt and watch her dad talk, staring at the ghost of a twenty three year old Drone in love.

It would be impossible for him to forget her.

"Why did we leave camp, Dad?" True did her best to keep her voice even, eager to ease her father's mind. In the dimming light of day he was starting to look pretty pale, and the heat radiating from him had completely thawed her chilled fingers. She knew that he needed to see Julia, but first she had to convince him to turn back.

With a painful grunt, her father inched his was out of the Dune Rail, his breath hissing between clenched teeth as his left leg touched the ground. Without a word he removed his sodden jacket and awkwardly leaned against the vehicle to place it over True's head and shoulders, like a hood. She didn't have the heart to tell him it's insistent wetness was only giving her more of a chill, and she didn't have the nerve to tell him he was crazy to take off his coat in the rain. So she simply sat and waited for him to speak.He moved several paces away from the 'Rail with a staggering limp, never once turning to meet her eyes again.

When he began his voice was so soft she had to strain to listen, but the words themselves through the patter of the rain; they cut to the bone.

"You're mother, True-Girl…she wasn't perfect. She was obstinate, she was…a woman of her opinions. I asked her to marry me, True. I asked her more than once; I don't want you to think I didn't try…I was _always_ tryin'. I just…couldn't make her see how much I loved her. She had her own plans, her own way of seein' things. No matter what I did, how hard I tried, I couldn't make her see that it wasn't…a burden."

True watched her dad's shoulders hunch forward with a shiver, his head down as he spoke to her. It made her think of when she and Uly had borrowed a VR chip from the Martin's tent without permission and Morgan had made them stand in the corner until they apologized. She wished he would turn around. She wished he would come sit with her. She wanted to see his face.

"Your mom had convinced herself that I didn't want to be…tied down. I'll never know for sure, but I always had the sense that she was a little scared of me. That she was sure if she let her guard down, let me love her as much as I said I did, that it was only a matter of time before I jumped ship, broke her heart. See, I'm not makin' excuses for her, because Eleanor Moor could take care of herself, but she was _wrong_, True-Girl."

Her dad shivered again, his voice hitching unsteadily. True had never even thought of these things he was telling her. She'd only ever seen him as her dad, and it had been natural to her. The two of them made the perfect team. It had never even crossed her mind that he was lonely in a place that even _all_ of her love couldn't fill.

"She was never my wife, but she was the one for me. And I never woulda left her. And I would have followed her to the edge of the galaxy if she'd ever left _me_…"

Even the rain seemed to fall silent with his confession, with the weight of past crushing down from the open sky. Her mom had left her dad, and she'd gone to the one place he couldn't follow her.

"I didn't know about you, True-Girl. You're mom never told me she was havin' you. After the accident, when the doctor's told me that you're mom…wasn't coming back, but she had you inside her, I should have been happier. I shoulda known, at that moment, that you'd be the best thing to ever happen to me, but I was so _angry_. I was angry that she hadn't told me, that she'd think for one second that I wouldn't be a good father to you, that she'd ever think for one second that our child's…life…was a decision she could make on her own. That was somethin' I never wanted you to know. I never wanted you to feel, for even a split second, that you weren't the stars and the moons for me. I love you so much, True-Girl."

Her dad paused, his head tilting weakly in her direction only to hang lower at the merest hint of True in his peripheral vision. She couldn't stand to see him so ashamed over something of which he had no control.

"It helps me...to think that maybe she didn't know about you, either. I know how awful that sounds, I know it's a hateful thing to say. But there's a chance that maybe she just didn't know that she was goin' to be a mom…that she would have told me if she knew, that it would have changed everything for us. I would have finally been able to convince her that we were truly a family, that I wasn't lyin' to her when I told her I would always love her, no matter what. I told her that every day; I told her I'd love her forever…"

Her dad's heart wrenching confession dissolved into tears, and as much as True yearned to run to him, to hold on to her father for dear life, she was held in place by a flicker of understanding. The answer, the cause of her father's pain, slipped into focus. The truth was as captivating as it was treacherous.

Her Mom had been dead for years, before she'd been born, even. And as sad as her dad seemed to be sometimes, True had never seen him cry for Elle Moor before the day he'd shown her his Vid Chip. But lately he'd only been smiling half-smiles, the kind that didn't turn his eyes extra blue, the stories about her Mom had been coming less and less, and with greater difficulty. It didn't make any sense!

Her dad shouldn't be upset when he and Devon had been getting along so well. And it was wrong that he was so angry that she and Bess always took such good care of True when he was busy. They should all be things that he'd want, and they were just the things making him crazy. But in her memory, the echo her dad's words wouldn't be silenced.

_I wasn't lying when I told her I would always love her…I told her I'd love her forever. _

True couldn't help but gasp as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. He wasn't angry at her at all, or at Devon or Bess. He was angry at himself for how he felt about them all; as though abandoned her Mom by coming to care so deeply for these other people in his life. And True had been so happy to have women to talk to, to share things with, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind that it would be disrespectful to her _real_ mother.

She'd never even met her, and she never would.

True hadn't wanted to admit it to herself, but her dad was falling in love with Devon Adair. She just _knew _it, and even though she had plenty of reasons not to be thrilled by the idea she still liked it much better when her dad was smiling for real.

He had been, until recently. There had been times when she and Uly would sit by the campfire with their parents and it didn't really even seem like the Danzigers and the Adairs anymore. It was like they almost were a real family, with a mom and a dad and two kids to play with each other. Uly was a pain in the neck, but even True's skittish Koba was starting to like him. Devon made her Dad tell silly jokes again, and she was always fair to True when Uly tried to be in charge of everything.

True watched her dad take a few unsteady steps; watched as he sat tiredly on wet and slimy boulder a few yards away. He turned his face to the stars, and she wondered what she could possibly say to make him feel better. No one should ever be so sad to be happy, especially not her dad.

"Daddy, you _do_ love her every day." She said softly, sounded childish even to her own ears. Her dad startled slightly, but still found it too difficult to meet his daughter's gaze.

"I don't…I'm forgetting." He mumbled wearily, rubbing his brow tiredly. Again, True thought of the night she'd snuck down to where her father was quarantined along with Wentworth and Firestein. She recalled a time when _remembering _had been just as painful.

"You're not forgetting, Dad. You're living. It's not the same thing at all."

Her father cautiously turned to face her as though he'd been awakened from a dream and had just realized he wasn't alone. He wasn't, and at the sight of his drained expression True began to speak. Not to her dad, not really, but to John Danziger, the man who'd once asked Eleanor Moor to be his wife.

"My mother's gone, Daddy, but that doesn't mean she isn't _here_. When you tell me bedtime stories she's here. And when you help me braid my hair or yell at me for doin' somethin' I'm not supposed to she's here, too. And even if she didn't think you'd be a good dad, or if she was scared to marry you when you when she had the chance, I know that wherever she is she's sorry for that. Because you do love her, and you always keep me safe, and she's watching over us. And even though I never met her, I know that she would want you to be happy. And she would want you to have a family full of people you love."

Maybe he'd hurt his leg, and maybe he needed Julia to give him some medicine, but it wouldn't make him all better.

Bess had told her and Uly a story once, about a boy and a girl who loved each other so much, they would rather die than be apart. It had been sorta boring, but it had been sort of romantic, too, and Bess had used a word that she hadn't really understood until right now, watching her dad watching her. He was _heartsick._

True was crying again, but she didn't feel scared or angry anymore. Her dad was listening to her intently, and when she finally caught his gaze she knew what to say.

"Daddy, it's okay if you love Devon. She'll never replace my mom, not for you and not for me, and neither will Bess. Daddy, I love them all, because they're all important people in my life, and I even have enough room in my heart to love Uly and Julia and Walman and Cameron and everyone else."

Her dad was nodding his head, just the slightest bit, but True could already see that through his tears he was finally beginning to realize she was telling him the truth.

"It's okay, Dad. You'll never forget her. I won't let you."

Her father snorted a bit, like he was learning how to laugh for the first time, with a gross sort of sound that made True wish she had a handkerchief, to wipe his nose like he always did for her with his sleeve when she cried too much.

"You're pretty smart. You know that, True-Girl?" He rasped roughly, standing on unsteady legs. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry…I'm not thinkin' very clearly. I've just been so--"

"I know, Daddy. You're a mess." She teased, prying his sodden jacket from around her shoulders. She stood up in her seat, holding it out to him. "You need to put your coat back on, and we need to go back to camp so Julia can fix you up, okay?"

He nodded, but stayed put. Glancing down at himself as though he wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten so far from home.

"Cut my leg up pretty good." He muttered, gingerly resting a hand on the dark patch that had seeped through his cargo pants. True winced a bit as she remembered their sudden stop, how her dad's knees had slammed forward. "It wasn't nothin' you did, True-Girl. You did the right thing. I…I should've…"

He trailed off, standing oddly still not ten feet from the 'Rail, as though there was something he couldn't quite remember.

"C'mon, Daddy. Let's go back, okay? There's plenty of time to talk more later, when you're feeling better. I promise."

"Yeah, okay, let's go back…let's get you out of the rain." He agreed, attempting a small smile, but here was something in his tone, in the way he was trying to sound like his normal self, that suddenly strengthened True's gut feeling that he wasn't.

"Daddy, maybe I should drive the 'Rail back, I think you should rest." She tentatively enquired, suddenly in motion, sensing disaster. She was scrambling to over the guard rail of the vehicle, her boots seeking purchase, when her dad laughed, a single strange bark that caught her off guard.

"I'm okay, True-Girl. I'll drive us back- It's gonna be fine." He declared brightly, finally moving to cross the short distance to the rail.

True's feet hadn't even touched the cool, muddy ground when her father collapsed.


	12. Chapter 12

_"The fog rolling off the docks shrouded the city in a soggy, woolen blanket. Only a chump would be out on a evening like this, when the hot Chicago air concealed the seedy activities of the night. Only me, smothered in a dingy trench, welcoming the stench off the water. The mist of a thousand cigars smoked by the ghosts of snitches and nosey PI's, like myself, who did the Dutch act off the end of pier 17. _

_Jimmy the Tuna was the kind of fish that couldn't be caught. He'd pulled the clean sneak so many times his mouthpiece had a bunk at the courthouse. And I was feeling downright hinky after the last warning I'd received, wrapped up all pretty and shaped just like a brick, tossed through my office window. It had convinced me I might not live see my next birthday party if I kept sticking my beezer where it didn't belong. And there were plenty of gumshoes who'd gotten lead poisoning for a lot less than I'd already done._

_And what to do about Stella…_

_If Mickey the Skink was to be trusted, and he knew five good reasons not to test my patience-- ten if I showed him my left hook-- the woman of my dreams had been spending her nights making pillow talk on someone else's pillows. The stupid skirt had taken herself undercover, and apparently she had no aptitude for analogies. Either she was peaching for me or she had truly fallen for the Tuna, in which case my days were numbered. _

_Single digits._

_The only thing more frightening than a Big Fish who couldn't be caught was knowing that now he was out fishing for me. It had been days since I'd found a solid lead and the mice had all holed up for winter, it seemed. _

_Even Mickey the Skink had skunked, and short of eating a slug sandwich with a side of pavement for lunch, I wasn't going back to the club to look for him, neither. It was time to pay a house call to my favorite little stoolie and make with the chin music until he canaried. __If anyone knew how to net the Tuna, it would be Bowlegs, and now-- with my life on the line-- it looked like I had no choice but to take a little trip down memory lane. _

_I would catch the Tuna, even if it meant tossing Stella overboard, and when I did, the insidious invertebrate would keep the city in nicoise salad for weeks. Corpulent bastard. I could only hope Stella's betrayal was a ruse, because if she'd really fallen for that pusillanimous pug, I had seriously overestimated the merits my broody charm._

_Bowlegs ran one of those mob fronts on South Cranton, where the bottles on the bar we're dusty with age but the liquor deliveries still went in the back twice a week. There was the occasional rich tourists, drinking moldy scotch, completely unawares they'd stumbled into the wrong part of Chi-Town. The part where everyone had a "cousin" who's a friend of the Family. _

_Didn't matter that Bowlegs still had moonshine from the Civil War on his shelf. Didn't matter that he always smelled like Lifebuoy and cocktail onions, neither. Cause only thing that _he_ was serving up in that hole of his was the straight skinny, neat with a twist. You want a diamond necklace for your dame? Go see Bowlegs. You wanna have a guy offed? Go see Bowlegs. He was a popular bird._

_Sure, it wouldn't kill him to dust the mirrors and make like he gave a damn the Bulls and the Feds were casing the joint, but Bowlegs was never was the sharpest toothpick in the martini. In fact, he was the only snitch I knew in a city of truly colorful personas who's nickname came from a genuine physical deformity. No one appreciates irony anymore._

_I was half way there when I realized that the funds were looking low at First National Bribes and Trust. I'd better stop in to see The Worm, and hope the bookie could do me a solid and give me an ad--_

"--vance, come in! Devon? Anybody, Eden advance come in! My dad's in trouble. Anybody! It's --"

_True, most sharks wouldn't be likely to pony up cash to a Dick, and a marked man at that, but The Worm, in this case, actually _was_ my cousin. Don't believe me? Just ask my Aunt Claudine, though she'll probably spit in your eye and tell you her son is no friend of _her_ family. She still hasn't forgiven him for missing our Grandfather's_

"--wake up Daddy, please! Please Daddy…Please someone answer, someone come get us--"

"_True?" I scanned the deserted street, certain I'd just heard the little chickadee clear as day beside me. There was just the three of us: me, myself and I. _

_Don't get me wrong, I'm not planning to hitch my wagon to a chippy like Stella anytime soon, but if church eventually comes to steeple, I wouldn't mind having a hucky duck kiddo like True someday. True Danziger was--_

"Morgan? Can you hear--"

_True was--_

"--help my dad!"

_Definitely not supposed to be here._

With a sharp electric jolt to the side of his face, the drifting fog melted out of the air, falling in sheets of driving rain. Morgan winced, shaking his head incredulously as the streetlamp soared up into a gnarled and twisted tree, looming over the skyscrapers that slowly bled away with the downpour, leaving behind a landscape, one both familiar and alien.

"Morgan?" He jumped at yet another shock, True's voice sounding as though it was coming from _inside_ his head. A flash of feedback momentarily blinded him, and all traces of South Fulton Street vanished, leaving nothing but the rain and a few boulders and shrubs. And the giant tree.

_Was she here, somewhere? And more importantly, where the hell WAS here? One minute I'm thinking about pitching woo with Stella and fighting off a spring cold, and the next I'm playing the patsy in some Arthur Conan Doyle picture. And it wasn't even a talkie. _

Except for the occasional static bursts of True on audio, the landscape around him was eerily silent, like space itself, only his ragged breathing breaking the stillness. Though he was surveying his surroundings somewhat violently, Morgan became aware that he couldn't feel his body, nor could did he have any control over where he was looking.

_Maybe it was a it was a cross current from some Dopey Joe's holovid, or maybe I was jumping headfirst off Crazy Bridge, but I had to hit up The Worm before Bowlegs clammed up--  
_

"Morgan, I can hear--" with another spark and a burst of static, the audio line cut out again, and the holovid pitched sharply to the ground, diving into a close up of an ashen looking John Danziger, shirtless under his ops jacket, blinking drunkenly up at me.

"_Danziger?" I croaked out, sounding hoarse inside this empty tin can of a vid. This was a queer picture show, with no sound and no story and…mechanics. I shouldn't know this palooka from Adam, but something in me told he was square, even if he looked like a pugilist. _

_His mouth was flapping, but without any sound he was a regular Chaplin, and I don't think he was talking to me, neither. There was something in his peepers that was downright unnatural, a little too romantical for a Jack who could hardly be in the same room with me without putting the screws on. Like he wanted to plant one on my kisser. _

_Or read me a bed time story._

"--love you, baby--" The sound suddenly cut in again, and it was no longer True's voice in his head but Danziger's, muffed and further away. "--you have to go back--" He didn't sound right…none of this seemed right to Morgan at all.

Was Danziger working for Jimmy the Tuna?

"_Danziger! What are you doing here?" I called out, light dawning on marble head as the surroundings suddenly started to make more sense. I was getting the gist of this dog and pony show, though I still had no idea how Danziger had gotten into my program, looking like he was ready to be fit for a wooden kimono._

_Wait, if this was…_is_ real…_

"--not going anywhere without you, Daddy!" A small hand crept into frame, brushing Danziger's matted hair out of his eyes. "Morgan! Why won't you answer me! I can hear you, Morgan!" The little girl sobbed, her hand shaking as Danziger's eyes drifted shut.

_It's true. It's _True!_ This is real. _

"True! True, I can hear you!"

He waited several agonizing seconds, watching Danziger shivering in the vacuous silence of his gear. True's transmission must have jammed it's way into his VR game, but the audio on her Gear was completely fried. But he'd been Morgan Martin, P.I. for so long he couldn't even remember logging on! How was that even possible?

Morgan reached up and timidly touched his face, feeling the cool metal of his own Gear. A breeze rumpled the tent flap, spraying a shivering gust of mist against his arm, and he could _feel_ it.

He'd been in VR for _way_ too long.

It seemed impossible that _P.I. 1935_ had been a stupid game! Jimmy the Tuna, Stella, his mission to take down the Mob, that fabulous, steel gray fedora always tipped like an old friend…

But _this _was real, this was where he was, on G889 in his tent hiding from the rain. And True Danziger was obviously somewhere _else_, and she was calling for help.

"Please tell them to come and get us, M-Morgan," The child whimpered on the cusp of hysteria. "We're lost, and I can't g-et my dad into the 'Rail. He--"

As the sound dipped sharply, True's POV once again shifted to survey the landscape. Morgan looked for anything familiar, but there was nothing memorable about the sparse, overcast surroundings-- the mammoth tree and the rain. He hadn't exactly been out of his tent in days.

And if he was to be perfectly honest, even when he wasn't in his tent he never paid attention to anything but flying insects and chances to sneak food.

_Some private eye, I am._

"It'll be okay, True. Just tell me where you are, Honey! Which way did you go?" With dizzying speed he found himself again peering over Danziger, who was once again gazing at him with confusion, he watched as True spread what looked like her bunk roll up to her father's chin. They must be absolutely freezing.

"--n't know! I'm so scared, Morgan, I--"

"True!" He called as the vision of Danziger wavering unsteadily, and with a sudden burst of hard light the tree was a lamppost again, and where Danziger had lain there was nothing but grimy cobblestones.

"True!" He screamed, once again in control of his own faculties, peering anxiously around the vacant street. The audio was clear as a bell, and with a pang of dread Morgan knew that was the last he'd be seeing of the Danzigers, both in VR and otherwise if he didn't figure out a way to--

With another blinding flash he was somewhere new, somewhere really, _really_ real. Blinking his eyes to adjust to his newly constricted pupils, he watched as Stella and Devon drifted into focus. Shaking his head, he reminded himself that his wife's name was actually Bess, and she was probably about to throttle him. A few more blinks and he could tell from the look on her face that even though she probably was _furious_ with him, she was far to worried about something else entirely to get on his case.

They must have no idea where the Danzigers were either.

"We need your help, Morgan, we need to find--"

"I know." He stated simply, standing with minimal dizziness for someone who'd been vidding for three days straight. Grabbing the Gear from his wife's hand, he placed it on his face quickly. "And we'd better find them fast."

Devon and Bess stared in amazement as Morgan activated the gear, not having the slightest clue of what exactly was going on. The way Morgan saw it, and he _had_ seen it, there wasn't any time to explain.

"G889 Topography Survey Launch." He spoke quickly into the Gear, his head throbbing as bright light and colorful graphics assaulted his vision. After John and True were safe, he was definitely swearing off the eyepiece for a while.

"Pin point current coordinates, and give me a Flora Scan, all plant life over forty meters high, scan range fifty kilometers. All directions."

As the maps began to whir before him, he kept an eye out for the tree he'd seen through True's eyes. They might not know where the Danziger's were stranded, but Morgan was certain that soon they'd know where to start looking.

"Morgan, honey, what are you doing? How on _Earth _do you know where they are?" Bess asked weakly, watching her husband intently. He answered her absently, as he studied the surrounding landscape.

"Relax, Doll. I'll flush out the egg's number and we'll rat him out to the croaker before you can wipe the clock."


	13. Chapter 13

a/n: I just wanted to give a "mea culpa" shout out to the fact that it is, in fact, taking me forever to get this story done. This one is a strange animal, and I just have to go with the flow. Even when there's no flow. Does the fact that I've written three whole other stories while this languishes count for anything? :) Thanks to everyone for the encouraging feedback-- have no fear, although it may take forever, this story will be finished. Promise.

* * *

True was thinking about lightening.

She peered up at the sky, studying the churning clouds and dismal shades of gray in search of the faintest tell-tale spark.

She desperately wanted to get her father out of the rain and, even though the branches were sagging with moisture, the big tree seemed like the driest, closest place she could find. It would be a good enough shelter to protect them until help came from camp.

Assuming Morgan had been able to hear her. And assuming there was no lightning.

Yale had gone on and _on_ about staying away from trees when there was rainstorm. At the time, it had seemed really stupid; Yale getting all twitchy and worked up about something silly like a little water. Besides. they'd seen the Terrians conduct electricity with their staff thingies bunches of times and no one had ever gotten zapped. And the Terrians had been _aiming! _

True had pretty much taken Yale's lecture with a grain of salt, mainly because she knew her father would go nuts if he ever caught her and Uly playing in a thunderstorm anyway.

She realized, with her newly developing fatalistic Danziger sense of humor, that it was just shankin' perfect that she'd ended up _stuck_ in a storm, and her dad had gone nuts after all.

She reminded herself quickly that he wasn't nuts, he was just sick. Mostly.

"I talked to camp, Dad. They're gonna come get us, okay?" She fibbed, looking sadly down to see that he was watching her in a daze. He nodded, shutting his eyes with a grimace. True tugged the blanket he'd wrapped her in earlier up to his chin. On top of that, she spread his jacket across his chest, wiping the rain from his forehead.

"Morgan's gonna send Julia and you're gonna be all better in no time."

"Sure will, True-Girl." He mumbled, patting her hand as he faded out again.

True sighed, her brow furrowed. All this time she'd been begging her dad to get some rest, but now she had a sinking feeling in her stomach every time he drifted off that she shouldn't let him lose consciousness.

Still, she was just as scared to wake him. She wished Julia would hurry up and get there, already.

True left her father's side just long enough to retrieve the pack he had thrown together. Setting it down beside him, she sat with a squish and examined the contents.

He'd brought a tarp and a few other pieces of rigging to make a shelter, but he hadn't brought a _tent_. True knew he'd have no problem putting a hut together lickety-split, and that's probably what he'd been counting on, but she was nowhere near as smart as her dad. Or as tall. She'd even tried laying out a base, but her dad had a key code on his Cold-Fuse Solder unit to keep her from playing with it, and she didn't know any of his commands.

She thought of using the tarp to cover the 'Rail, but there was no way she could get her dad back into the vehicle. It would be hard enough to move him underneath the tree. He was heavy, but she'd managed to drag him to the Safety Point after he'd conked his head when they'd been laying the hallway grids on the Roanoke, and the mud would probably make it easier.

Either that, or she'd keep falling flat on her ass and they'd have no shelter.

The other contents of the pack were hit or miss in terms of usefulness, but they gave True some idea of what he'd been thinking to drag her away from camp. He'd brought her stuff, nearly all of it--her hair ribbons, her mittens and her wool cap that she wished would fit him now, almost _all_ her clothes. He'd even brought the boring school VR's he'd made her practice before they'd ever met Yale, and her wooden Koba that Cameron had carved for her birthday.

He'd brought some stuff for him, too. The ugly shirt and another pair of pants she'd never seen before. The rest of the stuff was basic military survival gear, but it made her feel better to see that her father still had some good sense left in him.

On the bottom of the pack the was a small cloth bundle, and she unwrapped it quickly, hoping her father had been protecting some flares from the rain, or maybe even some of the old-fashioned waterproof matches that O'Neill had given the crew as a celebratory luck charm at the Send-Off Party.

Instead, she found her father's things.

His _things_, the stuff he'd had hidden in a thousand different packs all over the galaxy, most of which she'd never even seen before. She felt awful even touching them, and she didn't want to see any of it-- not without his permission-- still, something caught her eye in the small pile.

When she'd been just a little kid, maybe just five or six, her father had gotten a job installing docking systems on a Saturn Class transport barge. She was going with him, like always, but she'd overheard her dad telling Les about how they were docking his pay for bringing a 'dependent.' The Station brass had been complaining about safety protocols and underage labor regulations and giving her dad a really hard time.

The morning that they were scheduled to leave, her dad dressed her and sat her on the bed to braid her hair, just like always. When he'd finished tying the bow, she remembers sensing his hesitation and hearing him sigh, "I'm sorry, True-Girl."

With a light tug and a soft snip, she turned to see him holding her braid of hair in his hands.

He'd explained, with guilty tears in his eyes, that the Immigrant Worker Safety Codes on the _Believer _prohibited anything longer than shoulder-length hair. He'd confessed that it was the only way he could take her along; by signing a contract that-- just for that job-- registered her as a Child Worker.

Her dad had never made her cut her hair since.

True picked up the twisted braid of hair from the center of the pile. It was still neatly tied with a pink bow, and she marveled that her father had kept it all these years.

There were a few old Video Drome ticket stubs, for _Galactic Gladiator 4_, _Alpha Cops_, and one for something called _Casablanca_. He'd also kept a folded and crinkled piece of synth-paper that looked like some sort of flier for a band called _Drone Trash_. She studied the hand-written text, but none of it made much sense to her. There was her medical chip, and his own, and a third that upon closer inspection she saw belonged to Alex.

At the very bottom of the stash there was a tiny hologram of her, no more than three, with pig tails and dressed only in one of her dad's giant work shirts and a single, droopy sock. She was eating an ice cream cone like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted and it was all over her face.

It looked like it was strawberry.

As she studied the 3D image, a well-worn clasp snapped open on the side of the tin frame. From underneath the snapshot of herself spilled a smaller, 2D image of the tiny red-haired woman her dad had been dancing with at Bess and Morgan's wedding. With a shock, True realized that somehow, this striking, bouncy lady and broken woman dad had taken her to meet in VR were one and the same. This is what her mother had really looked like. This was the person her dad missed so much.

She was beautiful.

Suddenly the stories her Dad had told her over the passed few months rang with a new clarity. True could see the pair of them, her mom and dad, having all those adventures he'd told her about! The time they figured out how to override the meter on the Voice Activated Taxi and drove clear across the Station and back, the PokerDare tournament where her dad lost big and had to shave his head, the Christmas with the stolen wine.

True hiccupped a small sob, tracing the ragged edges of the styro-board photo. She figured that if Morgan hadn't heard her SOS, and no one was coming to find them, at least they were here all together. She and her dad, and her mom.

"You cried and cried when that ice cream was gone," her dad reminisced weakly. True jumped, embarrassed and ashamed at being caught with his personal things. She quickly slipped the picture of her mom into her pocket, and one look at her father made it clear he was unaware she'd found the secret compartment.

"Doesn't look so good to me," True huffed, repacking the contents of the pack quickly, hoping the rain would mask her tears. The last thing she wanted was to make her dad feel sad again. "It just looks gooey and messy. I'm probably better off without it ."

Shaking off the tremors of emotion, she hooked the pack on her shoulder and unceremoniously began heaving at her dad's shoulders until she had a firm grasp.

"Whatcha doin,' honey?" He asked groggily, gazing up at True's upside-down face.

"I'm gonna pull you under that tree. It's raining too hard to go without shelter," she informed him resolutely, hoping that she didn't sound as tired or scared or _little_ as she felt.

She grasped her dad by the armpits and gave a mighty tug, and succeeded in moving his giant frame nearly a foot before her feet went out from under her.

Thudding to the ground, her dad caught his elbows, narrowly avoiding slamming his head on the ground.

"True-Girl, I'm too heavy," he mumbled grimly. "I'm fine where I am…you go get yourself under that tree." Plopping back to the sodden earth, he wearily shut his eyes.

"Oh no you don't, Daddy!" True scrambled to his side; she was terrified at the thought of father giving up. "You can't sleep right now, Dad, we have to get under that tree." Her dad didn't flinch. She couldn't help it, she was gonna cry again.

"Daddy, you have to help me. C'mon, Daddy please, just stay awake a little longer."

"Tired," he whispered, and True was behind him again in an instant, tugging and pulling, inching closer to refuge.

"Tell me a story about my mother." True grunted, slipping to her knees roughly. She was up again in an instant, far to focused to feel the jarring pain. "Daddy! Tell me a story."

"Huh?" Despite his lethargy, her dad was trying to help as much as he could, digging the heel of his uninjured leg into the mire, pushing himself in the right direction. They were getting closer, but it was taking forever.

"Tell me about the time you guys got locked in the cold storage unit and you picked the old fashioned lock with the wires from Mom's brassiere."

"Shouldn't have told you that one to start with," her dad snorted, yelping when he reflexively tried to use his left leg to propel them. His weight sagged against her, and for a moment True thought she was going down again, but she managed to steady her cargo.

"Then tell me another one," she demanded.

"True, shhh…" Her dad kept getting heavier and heavier, and they still had several feet to go.

"Daddy, you can't rest right now. Tell me about how Mom used to brush your hair, just like I do." She felt him struggle a bit harder, they were almost there. He hissed in pain but didn't falter.

"She did, Baby. Every night."

"And it would get all huge, and you wouldn't know until you hit the showers the next day, right?" She goaded, panting with exertion.

"You said it." He was grunting and groaning, but at least he wasn't passing out. "If I'd fall asleep while she was brushin,' there was always…serious consequences."

True smiled despite her dire circumstances, imaging the woman hidden in her pocket, in bed in their cramped little unit with her dad's head resting in her lap.

"Serious consequences?" She inquired, calculating a path to the base of the trunk only a few feet away.

"Yeah."

"Like what?" She asked loudly, nose wrinkled up with effort.

"You know this one, True," he wheezed, slipping a bit. He stole a look back at her, and True could see how hard he was trying for her. A part of him must have seen the same in her, because he took a deep breath and heaved forward again.

"You mom used to hate it when I fell asleep on top of her," he chuckled exhaustedly. "She said I slept like the dead and there was never enough room for her if I picked 'my spot' first."

He spoke softly, but True listened intently as she fought to their destination.

"Sometimes she'd weave little braids into it that'd take me days to get out…once she painted a patch blue--" He lost his footing, a groan of pain bursting loose.

"To match your uniform, right?" True supplied for him, desperate for an answer, just as her back bumped into the tree trunk.

"Daddy?" She whispered, frightened by the stillness of her father in the eerie quiet under the canopy of leaves. Her legs were shaking like loose stabilizer springs, and she collapsed in a heap, holding her father to her chest firmly.

"Daddy, I know your tired, but you have to stay awake." She wiped the mud from his face gently, tears getting the best of her at the sight of him shivering.

This was worse than that time he'd gotten lost and the Elder had found him, this time where was no warm caverns, no adults who knew how to make him feel better. She didn't even know if someone was coming to save them. All she knew was that every time he nodded off she was terrified he wouldn't wake up again.

If her dad died she'd be all alone out here, forever.

She leaned over until she could kiss his forehead, no doubt mirroring her mother brushing her dad's hair all those years ago, and whispered into his ear.

"Please don't die…please just hold on, okay? Julia will be here soon, but you can't fall asleep…I need you to talk to me, Daddy, I'm so scared." True leaned back against the bark wearily, stroking her dad's hair as she felt herself admitting defeat. "Tell me a story, please." She whispered, closing her eyes as the tears overwhelmed her.

She felt her dad stir, shifting his weight slightly, and before she could move he caught her hand and gave her a faint squeeze, speaking in barely a whisper.

"The day you were born, I was supposed to be knee deep in generator circuitry." Grinning with a sniffle, True found her way back from the edge of hysterics. She had to lean in to hear him, but her father wasn't going anywhere for the moment.

"Keep talking, Mister, or there'll be serious consequences." She tried to sound firm, but mostly figured she just sounded exhausted and desperate. Her daddy opened his eyes obediately, and gazed up at her with the look that always reminded her how much he loved her.

"Wasn't at the job site, though. Actually, I was right down the hall from you and your mom in the Immigrant Medical Sector, gettin' my cheek and lip stitched from where some big oaf in a bar wiped the floor with me." He chuckled breathily, stroking her palm with his thumb. "Figures, I woulda missed your birthday, if I'd ever learned to stop mouthin' off..."

Instantly calmed, True hugged her father tighter and hunkered down to keep watch for lightening. She knew Eden Advance would find them, they were a good team. It was only a matter of time.

And she had never heard this story before.


	14. Chapter 14

Bess' hands worried the fabric of her husband's collar, gripping unconsciously with impatience and stress. It had been over an hour since they'd discovered the Danziger's disappearance, and despite Morgan's strange, still unexplained knowledge of their whereabouts, Eden Advance was no closer to the exact location of the injured mechanic and his frightened daughter.

Bess refused to question Morgan's motives for the endless topographical and environmental scans he'd been feverishly running since they'd gone to collect him out of VR. In fact, she'd been so thrilled by her husband's enigmatic lead regarding John and True's coordinates that she was determined to keep her normally curious side in check and not distract him with unnecessary questions. There would be time for the whys and hows later.

Right now, all that mattered was _where_.

Even though Julia's rushed, preliminary scan had derived that Morgan was physically okay, he was still acting oddly, and seemed annoyed that everyone was having trouble understanding what in the blazes he was saying. The truth was, they had no clue, and the last thing they needed was a communication barrier.

Sighing again, biting the inside of her lip to keep herself from urging him to hurry, she stole a glimpse at Devon, who was having less success at keeping her appeals at bay.

"Come on, Morgan, we've got to narrow this down! Just give us _anything_." She begged, pacing frantically around the small space. Without a word Yale took her by the arm and, with a stern look, forced her to sit on a near by crate.

"Please, people, can we all please try to remain calm," he asked no one in particular, looking to Bess for support. She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, too distraught to put up a brave front. Scratching his beard, the cyborg nodded morosely and went back to scanning his own memory banks, conducting his own silent search.

Bess though she'd been doing right by John, giving him a shoulder to lean on, lending an ear and finally convincing him to get some rest. If she'd known all the circumstances surrounding his self-destructive behavior from the start, how much he was suffering, she would have handled things differently.

She would never have respected his privacy and sent him off to bed with his daughter!

She'd been given a glimpse of his emotional pain last night, and it had distracted her from his physical state. She didn't know exactly where one left off and the other began, and she suspected that the same was true for John himself.

That's what friends were for, to catch you when you were falling, not to watch you crumble.

She should have gone for Julia when she'd found him so disheveled this morning, asleep in the rain.

"I'm driving blind, Morgan, we're not even sure this is the right way!" Through his Gear-Com link, Alonzo had also decided to prod unhelpfully, an angry tone in his imploring voice. Tensions were high, and Bess couldn't remember a time when camp had been so conflicted.

Danziger's desertion had struck hard in everyone's hearts.

His crew was flabbergasted and incensed. Despite Devon and all her clout, John was their true leader, and they all looked to the head of Ops to get them where they were going. John was their captain, and they didn't understand how he could abandon them- and with the possible price of _two_ of their precious vehicles- any more than those closest to him could fathom the emotional weight of his actions.

There were factions being formed, the group was angry and upset, and everyone was having trouble thinking with their heads and not their hearts.

Devon snorted haughtily at the pilot's interruption, tossing her head and rolling her eyes.

"He'll tell us when he knows something, Alonzo, stop pestering him and drive!"

Bess shook her head at the woman's contradictory behavior, more concerned than annoyed.

Devon Adair was furious at being left behind.

With the Transrover strewn in the muck like a toppled jigsaw puzzle, there only transport was the ATV, and it made the best sense to send Alonzo and Julia. They would need his strength, and he was obvious the best suited for inclement driving. Bess and Yale had also privately insisted that Devon concede; it was obvious to them that she was clearly in no shape to be of any real assistance.

"I should have gone with them," She informed the Nav Tent for the hundredth time.

"I'm driving blind, Devon," Alonzo shot back, ignoring her complaint. "Without navigation we're not even sure we're going the right way!"

Bess knew Alonzo and Julia were shaken as well. They'd been so enrapt in each other that both had failed to notice John was coming apart at the seams. Alonzo was doing his best to quell his feelings of guilt by bickering with Devon at any given opportunity, which was not in the least bit helpful. He needed to focus driving safely and keeping their doctor calm.

Julia's shame at having failed Danziger as his physician, was threatening to become crippling, and she of all of them need to be focused on the task at hand. The entire time Bess had helped her assess what crucial equipment they'd load into the cramped ATV, the doctor had quietly wept, worried for True and feeling just as responsible for the little girl's plight as her father's.

"Shut your yap, Alonzo! There's no need to tighten the screws, the canary will sing when it sings!"

Bess' fists clenched tighter.

"Morgan, honey, you're doing it again," she reminded him wearily, turning to study the maps strewn about the Nav Tent, still just as clueless as she'd been five minutes before.

"I said I'll _find _them," Morgan snipped, furiously punching a sequence of numbers into his headset. "It has to be in thataway, Alonzo, just keep your googs on the road and stop accusing me of being a wrong number!"

"You know, Martin, that's a perfect description of you!" Alonzo's caustic response made Bess wince, but she managed to keep quiet. It seemed useless to add her own opinion to the madness, and it seemed hopeless that she could talk reason into any one of them, not when her own nerves were equally frayed.

"Morgan, he doesn't mean that." Devon insisted, irrationally diplomatic, her pale face fraught with desperation. "We are all just very worried about John and True--"

"He doesn't even like the man, Devon!" Alonzo spat. "For all we know he's still playing in VR--"

"Alonzo, stop it, this isn't helping!" Julia finally chimed in, her voice sounding ragged and pinched.

"Oh, close your head, Flyboy," Morgan shouted, ignoring her, causing Bess to wince again. "I think we're all aware of who's the weak sister in this organization!"

"Alonzo is just concerned," Devon countered, inches from Morgan's face, as though if she could see his Gear readout she would be able to recognize the Danziger's location before he could. "John is his friend, Morgan, he--"

"When I find out what that means I might just kick your ass, Pal." Alonzo threatened, and Morgan threw up his arms in exasperation.

"Listen to me," He spoke icily, softly but with such venom it caught everyone off guard. "I will tell you all one last time, I am doing everything I can to finger them! I _have_ been doing everything I can to finger them since True tipped the mitt they'd made a clean sneak, and I am _incredibly_ insulted that you all think I want them to be rescued _less_ than any one of you plugs!"

Bess was sure you could hear a pin drop. The only audible sound in the tent was the steady whir of the ATV over three sets of Gear. Bess understood why her husband's feelings were hurt, from the start of this mess he'd been pushing himself to his limits, like he had when they'd finally cracked the Geo-Lock. She also could understand the group's frustration, seeing as he'd done so little in the past weeks to contribute.

Still, he was acting like the man she'd married again, and not whoever crash landing on this planet had turned him into.

He was trying to do the right thing, even if the others didn't understand that yet.

"Morgan, sweetheart, right now all that's important is that we get John and True back safe." She reminded him, her hands snaking up to tug at his collar again.

"I just want to set the record straight, Bess," he whispered despite the fact that he could clearly be heard over his headset. "I'm going to find them. I owe it to him…I…"

Morgan punched in another series of numbers and waited for the information to boot, hanging his head in shame.

"I filched that escape pod." He confessed softly, loud enough to make it clear he wanted Devon and Yale to hear; Julia and Alonzo, too. " I know I said it was the wind sheer and I was the rube, but to be on the square- I mean…the _truth_ is I took it."

Devon frowned in confusion.

"Morgan--"

"I was a complete nance, I admit it! I just wanted to make sure Bess was white! I sealed the hatch and I was about to give us the gate when Danziger started socking the door."

He sighed, a beeping sound verifying that he was scrolling through the surrounding terrain once again.

"I saw him, and he saw me…and I pulled a Mickey Finn. I dusted out, and that's the straight skinny. And I regret it every day. I regret it every time True gets the bulge on me in V.R., fair and square, and every time Danziger mugs like he's got the curse on me. Cause he has every right to! That's why this time I'm going to make sure he's hitting on all eight…and I can't put the finger on him unless you all quit grilling me and clam the hell up!"

Bess was surprised that Morgan would confess his act of cowardice to the group, even if she wasn't entirely sure they understood the gravity of what he was trying to say.

Rather than allow her stunned companions to recover enough to react, however, she decided it was finally time to speak up.

"Morgan's right," she spoke firmly, before adding a softer, "I think." She moved behind him again, rubbing his shoulders in a show of support. "The last thing we need is for some clue to be overlooked because we all can't stop name-calling like children. If Morgan says he'll find them he'll--"

"Found them!" Morgan exclaimed, leaping from the crate he'd been perched on. "Geocode Coordinate Calculation, initialize…"

It felt like the entire planet was holding its breath.

"We're coming John. We're coming," Devon murmured under her breath, leaning forward expectantly.

"Bingo! Take it on the heel and toe to 34.128822 by -118.389989...that's definitely the tree the little chickadee and I saw when we were peepin' through the same puss."

"Okay, Roger that." Alonzo acknowledged excitedly, "Sort of. Good job, Morgan. I apologize, man, I'm just anxious to get our boy and Miss True home safely."

"How long will it take them to reach those coordinates?" Devon asked, sending several sheaves of paper fluttering to the ground as she scrambled to find the right map. "They couldn't have left long after we returned from berry picking." She fumbled a bit, and the map spread between her palms quickly rolled itself back into a tube.

Taking one of Devon's shaking hands in her own, Bess carefully extracted the map and spread it out carefully, clamping down both ends.

"We should have checked in on him, Bess," the harried woman spoke softly, in a rushed monotone, scanning the map anxiously. "We just sent that poor little girl off to be carted away."

"Devon, we didn't know…"

"I knew, Bess!" She hissed. "I knew he was upset, and hurt, and I was too scared to do a damn thing about it. I chose to protect my shankin' pride rather than save him from himself, and now he's killing himself and putting his little girl's life in danger."

She wiped her eyes roughly, never taking her eyes off the map.

"I can't believe he would do this, he would leave us her. True must be so scared."

The fact that Devon felt left behind, as though Danziger had taken everything she cared about with him, told Bess everything she needed to about the depths of her friend's feelings for John.

"If Danziger's at those coordinates than he got a pretty good jump on us, " Morgan filled them in as his calculations resolved themselves. Bess could tell by the softness in his voice that Devon's own confession hadn't been as private as she'd hoped.

"Yes, that sounds accurate,"  Yale agreed, finishing his own Geocode. "We must concede the fact that John was most likely traveling at a faster rate than prudence would suggest, and in a faster vehicle. Thankfully, it would seem his route was not as direct as our technology allows. You should arrive at their location in a matter of hours, if the weather holds, I would say--"

"14:48, station time. Two hours and change." The fact that Morgan's final report came with a heaving sigh wasn't lost on Bess, and a quick glance at Devon confirmed the same.

It was the answer to the question they'd both been pondering since her husband had rocketed from his VR game with some sort of information regarding the missing pair.

Morgan seemed unsure that Danziger had that long.

"You'd better step on the gas, guys. I don't know how long the cat's got, he was looking a little green around the gills."

If it hadn't been for the deadly serious tone in his voice, Bess would have grabbed her husband and given him a good shake. She didn't have the foggiest idea what on earth he was trying to say, and any information he might have about the Danzigers might be vital.

"Honey, think about what you saw, okay?" Kissing her husband's brow affectionately Bess smoothed his tousled hair and gave him a stern look, taking his face in her hands. "Now just tell us in English, Morgan."

"I'm not really sure what flopped, don't ask me to explain it, but one minute I was behind the eight ball with Jimmy the Tuna and the next second I was bumping gums with True."

"Morgan, you're going to have to try and focus here," Julia piped up from the back of the ATV, as though reading Bess' mind. "I know what your saying is making perfect sense to you, but you're obviously experiencing some lasting effects from prolonged exposure--"

"He's not sure what went wrong, but apparently he was playing a game in which he was in trouble with a man named Jimmy the Tuna, and suddenly he found himself in communication with True," Yale supplied helpfully.

"Exactly!" Morgan cried, triumphant, as Devon and Bess turned to the tutor, incredulous.

"I've been analyzing Morgan's speech patterns and it would appear he's been immersed in a specific cross section of American culture, dating back as far as the late 1920's-"

"Yeah, I could have sung you that tune, but it's not important right now!" Her husband interrupted, frustrated. "Danziger's in dutch, he's gone over the edge with the rams and the sooner the meat wagon arrives the better. The kitten's in a rightly jam, too. I didn't see much, but whatever grift John was trying to pull has gone to the gashouse."

"Danziger is not in good shape," Yale translated calmly, "He needs a doctor, and True doesn't know what to do for him. I believe Morgan thinks they are running out of time."

"Morgan, is there anything else? Anything specific you can tell us that would help Julia?"

"No," he responded, his eyes sad. "The connection was pretty hinky."

Bess knew her husband had done all he could, but the sight of Devon's eyes pooling with tears was hard to stomach.

"Alonzo and Julia will get there in time, Devon." Morgan consoled softly. "Danziger might be off the track, but he's a Bruno." Something in his tone seemed to actually help calm Devon.

Bess smiled slightly, wishing with all her might for the rescue team to reach John in time. She wasn't sure what a Bruno was, but she suspected it fit Danziger to a tee.

"Devon, he's dizzy for the for you, and the little soothsayer, and I know that Danziger and I don't exactly drink out of the same bottle, but it's duck soup to see he'll break it up! On the square, Devon. You'll see."

"Well that was as clear as mud." Alonzo broke in sarcastically, shattering the tension with his usual lack of diplomacy.

"I understood it perfectly," Bess assured him, resting her chin on the crown of Morgan's head with pride.

With a watery sigh, Devon sat in a heap on the crate beside Morgan. Though her expression remained grave, she gave his arm a squeeze as she looked to Yale for confirmation.

"What Mr. Martin has so eloquently told us, Devon," her once-and-always guardian clarified as the hum of the ATV surged higher, "Is that you and John will be together again very soon."


	15. Chapter 15

John Danziger was discovering that coming to your senses was much worse than loosing them in the first place.

Despite the agony he'd been experiencing over the past few weeks, comprehending the depth of his emotions for Devon only to find his demons waiting at the door, accepting now how far he'd gone to outrun them-- to outrun his life-- was earth-shattering to him.

He'd really done it this time.

John finally realized for the first time that, by taking a job as lengthy as the Eden Advance Transport, he wasn't guilty for abandoning Ellie by leaving her behind, but guilty of subconsciously daring to let her go. It had just taken twenty-two light years for his heart to catch up.

He couldn't fathom which one was worse.

Danziger winced as True cut a slice through the gruesome stain on his pants. He was pretty sure the cut, worsened considerably by the rail's abrupt stop, was still bleeding. Now that he'd gotten a chance to catch his breath and take stock of the situation, he knew he had to do something to stop it, and fast.

He was lightheaded, though he had no idea of knowing if the was from blood loss or the raging fever that had overtaken him on the road. John was still confused as to how he'd gotten so sick so quickly…had he been sick before his solo scout? Why had he been avoiding Julia? What had he been thinking, shrugging like an ass when Bess had expressed her concern for him?

Had he just not worried, or had he not cared?

"That's wide enough, Baby, I'm gonna have to salvage these pants," he instructed his daughter softly. True nodded, her brows furrowed, concentrating on her task.

"Bess will never let you wear these pants again, Dad, face it," she reminded him dryly, nevertheless tucking the knife back in it's safety holster. Peering shyly up at her father, she tried her best to appear confident, but Danziger could spot that quivering chin from a mile away.

It always broke his heart.

"I'm scared to look."

Despite the tough edge to her voice, Danziger couldn't help but tremble at the sight of how small and scared his daughter looked; at the shame that seeped from his pores knowing he was responsible for this.

If anything happened to True...

Despite the recently posed question regarding John's lack of concern for his own well-being, it was becoming painfully clear to him that he had to save his own sorry ass or he was going to get True killed.

Or just completely destroy her life.

"Don't be scared, Sweetheart, it'll be okay, you'll be just like Julia."

"But I'm not a doctor, Dad, I'm a kid! I don't wanna hurt you." Reaching up, she adjusted his coat so that it covered his chin, and Danziger realized that his trembling had turned to shivers.

"Come on now," he attempted to empower her, trying his best to sit up. "You can do this, Sport! Your a natural, you help in the Med Tent all the time."

John could see it in her eyes; how much she wanted to do this for him, how useless she felt for being child. He'd tried for so long to protect her from this, scraping out a safe home, enough food, struggling to spare True her youth. Danziger prayed now that he'd done right by her, once or twice, given her some happiness.

There was no going back to being a kid again after something like this.

"True," he whispered, staring her down until she reluctantly met his eye. He freed his hand from the blankets and engulfed hers snugly.

"True, I can't ask you to forgive me for puttin' you in danger," he spoke gravely, "and I can't think of a single thing to say to you right now that could undo the pain I've caused. I can't even think of a way to make to make you smile, Baby." He swallowed hard, squeezing her hand desperately. "I know this whole thing is my fault…it's my fault and I don't think I can get us out of it this time. But True-Girl," John gazed intently at his daughter, wishing that she could see confidence and love in his eyes. "I know you _can_."

Danziger studied his little girl's face as she untangled her hand from his, easily breaking free of his weak grip. Holding his breath, he watched her eyelashes blink away the tears and felt her turn his palm over in her own, pulling at each finger, popping the joints one after the other.

He couldn't help but smile, awash with memories of her childhood. He'd completely forgotten the countless times she'd "loosened up the rust," always jumping up to catch his fingers when she'd been just big enough to reach hands. True was a devil at four, when she no longer had to wait for a lift to climb him like a mountain. What made her remember the little pre-work ritual he didn't know, but he interpreted it to mean she had reluctantly accepted the challenge.

John couldn't believe how much she had grown. Maybe he _had _gotten it right.

Once or twice.

"Okay," she sighed, meeting his eyes seriously. "I'll try to make it fast."

"Good girl." he nodded with approval, immediately reeling with the vertigo the movement stirred. Resting his head against the trunk of the tree, he did his best to block out his daughters gently probing fingers, widening the rip in his pants to get a good look.

"Daddy, it's bad," True's voice wavered, though she didn't stop her examination.

"S'okay, Baby Doll. Just take my belt and wrap it right around there, nice and tight," Danziger tried to focus on prompting her weakly, not knowing how much longer he 'd be able to resist the pull of sleep.

"It's called a tourniquet, Dad," True informed him loudly as she gave one end of the belt a mighty tug.

Both Danzigers grunted in unison.

"I know this part. It's basic first aid."

John laughed, knowing that the rough treatment was her way of reminding him that she couldn't focus on the task at hand and baby sit his sleepy ass at the same time.

"I'm awake, I'm awake, just dizzy is all," he assured her, patting her thigh reassuringly.

Not wasting any time with a retort, all her efforts focused on the task at hand, True pulled all the equipment loops off her father's tool belt and quickly wrapped it once, twice around her his thigh, just above the injury. Danziger braved the spinning landscape to steal a peek at his little medic, and could plainly see she was trying her best avert her eyes from the gore. Her thin, ashen face was focused mostly on his, peeking downward only when she had to.

"It'll be okay, True. I'll be fine, Honey, I promise," he whispered, meeting her eyes before stealing a glimpse at his lap. With a hiccupping gasp he rested his head back against the bark with a disgusted groan. True was right, it was pretty bad.

Normally Danziger wasn't too squeamish when it came to blood, especially his own, but he hadn't really expected there to be so much. Back at camp it hadn't seemed so bad, just a whopper of a scrape. It had just been sore, and he had been so tired…

"Daddy, you said you were awake."

John heard True's soft chastisement, but his thoughts were flitting around his head again. He was remembering back at camp, when he'd finally gotten to bed, when he'd realized…something important, something that had had him up and packing like a scared little kid.

"Daddy, answer me." She demanded sternly, her lithe fingers tying a loop knot, sounding so much like her mother again.

He'd been thinking about Ellie, and it had been so damn hot despite the rain that was falling heavily, until the tent was a vacuum, filled with sounds that were white noise, dead noise.

And he had remembered what he'd been trying so hard to forget ever since Devon Adair had crash landed into his life and he'd come to know the woman behind the name that he'd spoken with nothing but distain before he'd reluctantly signed on with Eden Project.

He and Ellie had been working on an Exotech crew, but Adair Industries had supplied the walk.

And they'd been one Drone Support Unit short.

"Daddy…" He could hardly hear True now, his mind racing with people and places from so long ago. The Station Police questioning him, accusing him of being responsible for hour after hour. Holding him in that room him for days, when all he wanted to do was see Ellie with his own two eyes.

The Exotech Brass denying culpability, refusing to further investigate the matter for wrong ship on their own part. His lawyer-- the Council-appointed hack who'd spent no more than three minutes with his "client" -- flat out refusing to file a suit against Exotech, Inc. or Adair Industries. He heard the stories, knew that many of the Stations major corporations had watchdogs, inside men paid to avoid such things as _liability_.

Danziger been so scared, so angry. By the time hed gotten to her, they'd already bypassed his rights as Next of Kin and prepped her for the Neuro-Stasis ward. She'd already been placed in her sterile cubicle, which Danziger was not permitted to enter. They'd already shaved her beautiful red hair.

John hadn't wanted that for her. Not any of it, and he knew there was no way in hell Ellie would have wanted it either, to be kept alive when her spirit had already moved on; her slender body ravaged with inflow/outflow ports.

But then they'd told him about True…

And after she was born he couldn't do it.

He had looked down at Ellie's baby girl, starting confusedly up at his bruised and battered bar-room face, and he knew the decision wasn't really his anymore.

With no warning, True leapt from her crouch and used all her weight to cinch the belt as tightly as she could. Danziger startled sharply, shooting from where he reclined to find himself hunched over, overcome with waves of racking pain that set his teeth on edge and threatened to void his already empty stomach.

True was right there with him, rubbing his back and brushing his hair back behind his ears.

"It was better just to do it, Daddy! See, now it's done. I'm all done," she soothed, and with tremendous effort John managed to straighten himself, pulling his daughter to his side. He wrapped his arms around her proudly, tucking her head against his heart as he leaned into her strength.

"True-Girl," He sputtered, and True shushed him, easing him back delicately before settling in to hold onto him tight.

"They'll be here any minute now, Daddy. Devon's gonna come get us," True reminded him comfortingly, and at the mention of the woman's name Danziger suddenly found himself wracked with silent sobs.

Despite all he'd tried to put behind him, despite being caught between what the name Adair had stood for twelve years ago and what the woman meant to him _now_, he couldn't believe how easily he'd found his answer.

He didn't really want to flee the family that Eden Advance had become to him, even if such a feat would have actually been possible. He wanted to be on G889, and he wanted to spend his time here with the one person in the universe he'd ever actively tried to hate.

Somehow over the past months he'd fallen in love Devon Adair, and right now he wanted nothing more than to be with her.

Despite it all.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," True blubbered, seeing his distress. John shook his head, dizziness be damned, and kissed her brow tenderly.

"No, Baby, you did the right thing," he purred, stroking her hair gently. "You're such an amazin' girl, True." He sighed, the worst of the pain fading away. "You're mother would be so proud of you. She'd be so proud of how strong and smart you are, just like her."

John could feel, rather than see the smile as it crept across True's cheek. Maybe he _had_ really lost his mind, but now that he'd started talking to True-- not about her mother, per se, but about Eleanor Moor-- he couldn't seem to stop.

"Beautiful and smart-assed and capable of anything," he murmured, unaware he was drifting again. "Just like your mother."

"Dad?" True sniffled, wiping at her eyes. Now that the hard part was past, she had quieted from her manic wavering between childhood and adult responsibility fairly quickly.

Maybe she was growing up, but for now he was happy to have her be eleven again.

"Yeah?" He whispered, trying to marshal his strength for whatever was coming next.

"At Morgan and Bess' party, did you edit the program to make our partners?"

There was a gravity in True's voice now that Danziger had never heard before. He knew she'd learned a lot of harsh truths today, about her past and her present, all while her future hung in the balance. They'd both been on a crash course four hours, and John knew he wasn't the only one feeling the effects.

"Yeah," he whispered fuzzily, not sure yet if he was capable of saying much else.

True giggled lightly, and the unexpected vibrations startled him from his doze.

"So, then, it's _your _fault I was stuck with that dorky little kid who just kept swinging my arms around all night," she accused, snuggling her cheek closer. John snorted, tugging gently on her mane.

"It was a really crappy program," he mumbled ruefully, well aware of how miserable his own evening had turned out.

"Who was he supposed to be?" She asked, and he gave a feeble laugh of his own.

Danziger forced himself to focus on remaining in the present, avoiding the ceaseless pull of the nostalgic twilight that threatened to overcome him.

"I programmed in this boy who I shared a bunk with at the stray house when I was a kid. He was a pisser, that one…Danny Patel…I dunno why I thought of him." It occurred to Danziger that he'd been living in the past since he set foot on this planet. The virus he'd suffered the first week had blotted out everything that was fresh, the emotions he should have been feeling.

He'd lost Alex and Les, and he'd gained so many memories he'd thought were gone forever. Even though it had been painful, John had been comforted by them.

"He was quite the ladies man, as I recall," he chuckled deeply, kissing her cheek again. "He would have thought you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen."

True moved the blanket, silently peeking at the tourniquet, making sure it was holding.

"I'm feeling better now, Sweetheart," He reassured, rubbing her arm, his fingers numb with chill. "I think it stopping."

"It is," she confirmed, pulling the blanket higher, placing a hand on his cheek. "You don't look any better, Daddy," she whispered. "You're white."

Gazing at her sadly, he pulled at her sleeve until she snuggled up to him again, not knowing what to say, too tired to refute the obvious.

"I still had fun at the party," she offered instead, clearly for his benefit. "It wasn't all bad." Breathing deeply, Danziger attempted to find his voice again.

"Naah," he rasped, steeling himself for what he knew was to come. He wasn't really surprised that True had figured out who his dancing partner was, nor was he particularly curious as to how she'd put it together. He was just trying to stay awake, just a minute longer, minute after minute.

"You were dancing with Mom, weren't you?" True's question came out more like a confession, and it took him a moment to register the reason for her hesitation.

She thought she wasn't supposed to know it was Ellie at the wedding simply because John hadn't had the nerve to tell her at the time. She was guilty _now_ because he'd also somehow managed to avoid telling her since.

He shifted his weight to make True more comfortable. He figured he deserved the pain.

"No, True-Girl, it wasn't your mom," he admitted faintly, still stroking her hair. "It was just a person who looked like Ellie."

Danziger owed her this, he knew. He had to come clean.

Truth was, it had been an awful night.

"When I uploaded our information into Morgan's program, I decided… I thought that it could be a way for you to meet her. That maybe, just for one special night, you could spend some time with your mother." John bit his lip, shivering despite the sweat he could feel forming on his scalp. It seemed like eons since True had alerted him to the fact that camp was sending a rescue party and he needed them to get there soon.

The way he was feeling, this might be his last story.

"But you didn't even tell me it was her, Dad, I didn't know," True countered wistfully, her fingers picking at the mission patch on his jacket. "It just makes me sad that I didn't know."

"I meant to tell you, Baby. I just wanted it to be a surprise. Once we got in there, I…when the program started it just wasn't right. It wasn't her."

His hand slipped drunkenly out of her brown tresses, his arm impossibly heavy.

"It looked like her and talked like her, but that was what was so _awful_. I don't know why I had ever thought that Morgan's replica could be the Ellie I loved, but I wanted to pretend. The instant I saw her in the flesh again I knew how wrong I'd been." His voice was fading, he knew, but he continued as best he could. " I couldn't even say her name, True. I didn't want you to remember your mother that way."

True held him tighter, offering up the only medicine she had left, wrapping her arms around him like a life vest.

"I know I should have told you later, but I was ashamed. It wouldn't have been her, but I shouldn't have kept it from you." He cracked open an eyelid to realize it was nearly too dark to see beyond the drooping canopy of the trees. That didn't seem right, so he closed it again before he could either confirm or deny that he was actually having trouble seeing.

At this point, it didn't seem important either way.

"It makes sense that you kept it a secret, Daddy," True assured him gently, "you were just trying to protect me. And besides, I got to meet my real mother anyway." She rubbed his back and Danziger sighed audibly, so relieved that she understood. He couldn't even begin to explain all the differences between the buoyant replica she'd glimpsed at the Martin's reception, and the woman he'd loved.

"Yeah," he exhaled, "you did. I'm glad I could give you that. Something."

True pondered this for a moment, before burrowing her head closer under his chin, and Danziger wished more than anything that he had the strength to swing her up into his arms and carry her back home.

Smiling down a her, he did his best to dislodge the blankets, clumsily tucking her against him before bundling her under the covers. The effort such a simple thing took was tremendous, but he felt better with her in the crook of his arm.

She used to be able to fit there, head to toe.

Danziger couldn't really believe it would end like this.

He'd seen to it, personally, that help could only be coming as fast as the ATV. The goddamn Zero unit was probably about finished with the 'Rover by now, and it dawned on him...the way he'd deserted his crew, his _friends_…

Maybe they weren't exactly in a rush to get there.

"You looked like you were having so much fun, Daddy. You were such a good dancer." The pain in True's voice rang out, and John was suddenly irrationally terrified that she could feel him slipping away from her.

He tried his best to rouse himself, squeezing her back for all he was worth.

"It was hard for me, later. But Bess and Morgan looked so happy, and I didn't want to spoil their day. I decided as long as we were dancin', I didn't have to talk. She wouldn't try to talk to me in that voice that wasn't Ellie's and I could just hold her in my arms and remember her for a while." He heard her sniffle softly. "You were right, True-Girl. It wasn't all bad."

As he settled back he could feel the dizziness overtaking him again. He shuddered, his whole body quaking with fatigue, and True was up like a shot, her face inches from his own.

"Hang on, Daddy, they're coming." He pried his eyes open to see her, but her face was cast in unnatural shadows, fuzzy and swimming.

"S'okay," He gasped, his ears buzzing, his head filled with a droning noise, getting louder and louder.

"Help's coming, Daddy, stay awake!" True was shouting at him, shaking him by his shoulders, but John couldn't regain control of himself, he was going to loose consciousness.

"I love you, Baby," He whispered. "I love you, and I'm so sorry."

True was hysterical, but all he could hear was the buzzing, filling his head and vibrating through his body.

He hoped Bess would keep True safe and give her love. He hoped Morgan and Uly would make her smile and Alonzo would make her blush. He hoped Julia would help her heal and Yale would teach her well.

And he _knew_ that Devon would be amazing mother.

The last thing he saw before oblivion claimed him was Alonzo and Julia, hovering over him. On the cusp of unconsciousness he realized that his ears hadn't been buzzing at all.


	16. Chapter 16

Bess had never asked her husband what it had been like, all those months ago: chasing her mile after mile through bitter terrain--finally helping her make spring--all because he loved her.

Until that winter-spring morning at the gorge, Bess had never known how much she truly meant to Morgan.

Now she didn't have to ask, because here she was jogging to keep up with Devon, who had stormed away from a private moment with Yale, clearly distraught, and decided she couldn't wait any longer for Alonzo and Julia to bring Danziger to _her_.

Now that the tables had turned, Bess was wondering what Devon was thinking, uttering not a word to anyone besides one final, strained "I should have gone with them" and leaving camp. Bess had run after her, stopping only to grab a canteen and Devon's winter coat, leaving Morgan to his fitful doze in the Nav Tent.

Yale had seemed almost overcome, unable to answer when Bess had anxiously asked him where Devon was headed. She would have sworn there were tears in his eyes, but catching up with Devon seemed more important than knowing what was upsetting her. If there had been news from Alonzo and Julia over Gear the other Edenites would have heard it as well, so whatever had sent Devon running was clearly of a more personal nature. As she set out to follow, Bess had resolved that she would wait until Devon was ready to explain.

But now she was winded and soaking and confused. And feeling closer to her husband with every step she took.

"Devon, I think you should slow down for just a second and put on this coat," she panted, finding herself a few steps behind.

Devon didn't answer, nor did she slow.

"Just for a minute! We don't have to stop, just _slow down_." Bess rationalized, not quite sure what good it would do. "They haven't checked back in over thirty minutes, Devon, that means they're close." She squished her way to the woman's side and began to physically situate the coat onto her.

Finally lagging, turning to reveal a harrowed expression Bess had seldom seen before, Devon offered a tearful alternative.

"Or it could mean that he's dead!" She cried raggedly, shivering and gasping for breath and she tried unsuccessfully to get her arm into the sleeve of the coat.

She was completely unhinged.

Bess hadn't realized that Devon was so beside herself. Every line on her face was etched with pain, making her look drained, like she'd aged with every step she took.

Taking hold of the leader's arm, Bess pulled her to a halt, helping her slip her arm into the sleeve before pulling her close.

"Devon, just stop a minute," she cooed, holding the trembling woman tightly. "Just take a deep breath, okay? Julia's with them now, John and True are going to be fine."

In truth, they hadn't spoken to Julia since the team had broadcast that they'd spotted the missing pair, mostly they'd been in contact with only Alonzo, who had been much more focused on helping his friend than wasting time giving them updates.

Upon locating the Danzigers, both he and Julia had blocked their channels to alleviate the added stress of Devon's ceaseless questioning and to spare the others back at camp the worst of what they were about to find. Since then he'd checked in twice, once nearly a half hour later to confirm they'd loaded Danziger and True into the Dunerail and were temporarily leaving the ATV behind, and again to say they'd reached the halfway point.

Alonzo hadn't given them much to go on, in terms of John's health, other than that he'd lost a considerable amount of blood and had not yet regained consciousness.

They would all just have to wait.

"God, Bess…All this time, I've been with him all this time and I didn't know," she sobbed as Bess stroked her wet shoulders patiently. She was still in the dark, but Bess was starting to think ignorance might be preferable to whatever horror had reduced Devon to hysterics.

"What is it, Devon?" She asked with trepidation, her heartbeat refusing to slow despite the fact that she'd stopped running.

"No one even thought it was important enough to tell me! And then the files were sealed and I never…It's all my fault, Bess, I should have known…" She confessed, pulling away to clutch on to Bess' hands and look her dead in the eye. "He never told me, but I should have _known_."

"Devon try to calm down." Bess coaxed, squeezing her hands in a show of support. "What's got you so upset? What didn't you know?"

Devon's gaze faltered, and she looked equal parts contrite and sick to her stomach. Hating to see her friend so emotional, Bess hoped Devon would be able to calm down before True and John's return. She would need to be strong for them, especially True.

The last thing that poor little girl needed to see was Devon as distraught as her father.

"I couldn't stand the waiting Bess, I needed to do something constructive, something to help me understand what could make John so upset, what was haunting him to the point the could leave us," she took a ragged breath. "And I found it."

Bess felt a chill run up her spine, more icy than the rain and twice as unrelenting.

"Devon, John's not thinking straight, he didn't really mean to _leave_ you, I know in my heart that's true."

Devon ignored her mollification, shaking her head to silence the Earth-Res even as she was loath to continue.

"I asked Yale to open John's sealed file." Before Bess could interrupt, she hurried on. "I know it's a violation of his personal liberties but I needed to know about Eleanor Moor," she swallowed thickly, hanging her head in shame. "I needed to know what I was up against, what I could say to help ease his pain."

Now that Bess was faced with the information that had always eluded her in her attempts to understand John Danziger, she found she'd rather respect his privacy.

She didn't want to know.

She didn't want to know when he'd lost his parents, when he'd broken his first bone, how many credits it had cost him to keep his dead lover alive. She didn't want any of it, she just wanted him to be able to start fresh

Bess realized that maybe she understood why Danziger had fled better than she'd thought.

"In my initial term as president of Adair Industries, the Station's economic structure underwent…changes." Devon's reedy voice was so soft Bess had to struggle to hear. It made her think of True, sitting on the ground in front of her father, listening intently to the hushed whisper of one of his ghost stories.

Bess shivered. She was listening to one now.

"There was a boom in interplanetary research with the discovery of the Delta Quadrant, and our competitors in the industrial sector were hit hard. I hadn't realized the lengths at which my financial officers had cut into robotics funding to follow the trend until our competitors started declaring bankruptcy. I was…I was focused on my career, on making the changes I thought were important for the future." She shuddered, pulling the coat tighter. Steeling herself to continue, she began walking again at a slower pace, and Bess followed suit. She didn't exactly understand Devon's explanation, but with Devon's next words the point became clear.

"A few years later, that research would end up saving my son's life."

Bess nodded mutely, flexing her frozen fingers, her body ravaged with tension.

"Our quarterly reports showed a backlash hitting the manufacturing district, and my advisory committee convinced me to counter the market demand and lease out our construction and astronautical equipment to competitors, hoping to capitalize on the money we were loosing since budget cuts had forced us to downsize production."

Devon rubbed her arms and quickened her pace, ever slightly. Bess didn't have the heart to chastise her again, nor did she dare to speak, as scared of Devon stopping as she was of the woman finishing her story.

"It was a mess. Any mishaps on the job site required two separate Council investigations, on for the contractor and a second for Adair. As the term progressed I began to notice the sheer number of pending settlements, and when took a closer look at the practices of my robotics division I realized they'd been cutting corners…I was so naïve, Bess, I was so goddamn _optimistic_."

Bess didn't miss her choice of words, nor the tone in which she spoke them. Bess knew of only one person on this planet who would make an insult of such a enviable quality, and it would appear he'd rubbed off on Devon more than she realized.

"There was a steep drop in product quality, and we didn't have nearly enough assets to meet the sudden demand. As soon as I realized it I pulled the plug; I fired half of my staff for hiding the accident reports…" with a choking sob she continued, "there were no deaths, Bess. I went through all those cases and there were no deaths."

Bess stopped. The realization of what Devon was saying struck her all at once, making her incapable of putting one foot in front of the other.

Sensing she was alone, Devon trailed to a stop ahead of her, head hung low and shoulders heaving.

The ramifications were staggering. Bess couldn't possibly imagine trying to run an entire corporation. She'd never entrusted so many people to act on her behalf, to do the right thing. She knew Devon's world was strewn with scruples she'd never even conceived of, and yet her initial reaction had been one of knee-jerk blame.

A neuro-dead immigrant worker, her shattered lover and unborn child, it hadn't phased Devon at the time. She'd scanned right past John Danziger's accident report, and seeing no suit and no deaths, she'd just filed it away.

Her mind was racing with a thousand possibilities. Had John been as blissfully ignorant as Devon? Could he have blindly followed the person he held responsible for his heartache across the galaxy?

He must have known.

Bess couldn't comprehend John's strength, realizing now that he'd known that first week when he'd willingly careened down into the vast Terrian caverns to save her son, when he'd starved himself to bring back Number 9, when he'd twirled Devon around the dance floor at the wedding.

How was it possible that he'd come all this way carrying such a heavy load, with no one the wiser?

"Devon," creeping closer, Bess pushed her own feelings aside. All that mattered now was keeping Devon calm and making sure John was okay. Later she would have time to digest this incredible, incomprehensible news, but now she needed to convince Devon to let it be.

This conversation was something John wasn't capable of having, not until he was physically and emotionally ready.

"Devon," she began again, reaching the woman's side. "I can't presume to know how you're feeling right now. Not anymore than I can figure why Danziger would run off the way he did," Bess wrapped her arm around Devon's shoulders, leaning in until she could see past the obstruction of her dripping, auburn hair. "But until we're certain that John is out of harm's way we've got to tread lightly. What's past is past, Devon, and you can't change--"

"But how can I look at him, Bess? How can I possibly apologize for the pain I've caused him?" Bess sighed, wishing Alonzo or Julia would buzz in on gear and save her from trying to find the right words. Optimistic or pessimistic, there was no way that she could spare Devon's feelings anymore than she could spare John and True's.

The truth was, they were all going to feel this. Bess figured they were better off together than they were alone.

"What happened to Ellie was an awful thing," Bess told her sternly, refusing to mince words as she tried to hide the quiver of emotions in her voice. "John's had a hard life, Devon. We've all of us here on this planet had a hard life, but here we are now, and the slate has been wiped clean. John will forgive you, Devon, because somewhere in his heart he already has."

Devon put a hand over her eyes, squeezing as if she could make the circumstances of Eleanor Moor's death disappear from her memory.

"I have to tell him, Bess!" Devon interrupted. "I can't keep this from him any longer than I already have!"

Bess paused a moment, not quite sure of a gentle way to clarify what Devon apparently not yet realized. Finally, she decided it was best to just come out with it.

"John knows."

Devon's stunned reaction was so pronounced, it was as though Bess had slapped her across the face. Loath to continue, she felt just as guilty. "He knows, Devon, he has to. He filed that report himself."

Devon finally blinked, sending twin tears racing down her cheeks.

"B-b-but that would mean he…everything he--"

"You need to let me finish," Bess silenced her, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was going to say next.

Devon didn't even attempt to continue, her mind racing; no doubt cataloguing every brush of John's hand on the small of her back, every sacrifice, every repair.

"John cares very deeply for you Devon, enough that it's changed him, woken him up. Enough that he's scared out of wits about it. His heart is ready to love again, Devon, he's trying to put the past behind him even if he is having trouble saying goodbye. You need to be there for him to remind him that, when he's ready, you'll waiting to make up for all the time he's lost." She paused, biting her tongue.

Bess figured she was making presumptions for both parties, and while she 100% positive that she'd correctly interpreted Danziger's feelings, it didn't seem right to guess at Devon's when she was standing right there.

Even if she knew she was right.

"I'm sorry for assuming that--"

"I am," Devon quickly clarified. "I _am_ here for him, and I will be. You're right, Bess. I have to give John time, but I also have to give him something to look forward to. I need to help him talk about her, about _us_…we can't keep walking around pretending it doesn't exist because it does, and I want it to. I just need to help him learn that it's okay for him to want it, too."

Bess took Devon's arm comfortingly and slowly began making forward progress, wondering if she should be concerned at the lack of word from Alonzo. It seemed like the rain was slowing, but who knew what treacherous pathways the Dunerail was encountering.

This planet was so unpredictable, so _alive_, and it had a magic that she'd never quite felt before, even on Earth. What were the odds that Bess would ever end up here, with this wonderful group of people who she'd learned to call her friends? And by that token, what were the odds that John Danziger would find himself here, traversing the unknown with Devon Adair, president of Adair Industries. The woman who had been connected to him for years, silently navigating her own waters, but inextricably tied to his fate more than once.

John was Devon's savior ten times over. In his own singular way he'd bullied her into seeing the other side of the coin. He wasn't a physical threat, though he could be intimidating, but rather he challenged her: challenged her ideals, her notions of teamwork, of sacrifice. He had placed the safety of both she and her son on his broad shoulders, literally, the first day they'd set foot on G889, and never looked back.

Until now.

G889 had snuck up on John, the beauty and _rightness_ of this place, but maybe there was something to be said about magic as well. For months now she'd viewed a relationship between Devon and John as an eventual inevitability, but now she felt like she was the last one to the party.

The truth was out, and with its share of sorrows it also revealed a cosmic romance that almost defied explanation. Whatever the future would bring for her two friends, Bess knew with certainty at that moment, walking in the mud with Devon, that they would be part of each other's lives forever.

"Devon, come in! We're getting close," Alonzo's steady voice pierced the stillness of the landscape.

Taking a deep breath, Devon brushed her hair back and took a swallow from the canteen in an attempt to regain her composure.

"We're here, Alonzo, Bess and I are walking out to meet you. How are they?" She asked, trying her best to sound formidable.

"Julia thinks they're going to be fine. John's got quite a temperature and he's lost some blood but he's stabilized. True-Girl here saved the day, didn't you?" He asked his passenger tenderly, his voice rife with emotion. If True answered, it couldn't be heard.

"Why was he bleed--"

"Later Devon," the pilot intercepted, calmly closing the topic. "She's had about all she can take."

Bess could only imagine what the little girl had been through.

"How is she, Alonzo?" The Earth-Res asked softly, despite the fact that True couldn't possibly overhear. His answering sigh was audible over the transmission.

"Bumps and bruises mostly." He murmured sadly in reply, his benign words conveying volumes.

Julia was speaking indistinctly in the background, and at the sound of the doctor's presence Devon stood a bit straighter.

"Tell Julia to sign on, I want a full report," she inquired tautly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The corner of Bess' mouth twitched with a smile. Devon was back.

"I can't exactly do that, Dev. It looks like her Gear's already in use." the mirth in his voice seemed misplaced, but what followed had Bess grinning from ear to ear.

"I feel like the Transrover probably looks, about now."

At the sound of John's exhausted voice, the worry lines in Devon's brow completely vanished, leaving only the calm of a palpable relief. Bess felt her eyes welling with tears as she witnessed the transformation.

"John!" Devon gasped, "God, John, I was so worried…I--"

"Adair, I'm sorry." He rasped, cutting her off. He sounded awful, Bess thought, but he also sounded more like himself than he had for quite sometime. "Don't know what I was thinkin'." Bess could hear the guilt in Danziger's voice, tinged with a sort of stunned devastation and genuine confusion. "Guess I wasn't." He cleared his throat, strangling his emotions with a small sound that nearly broke Bess' heart. "Coulda gotten you all killed."

Clear as day she could remember the sight of John's slumped shoulders, shrouded in solar flannel, as he shuffled wearily into the Bio-Dome after his ordeal with the ancient Terrian spirit. She remembered the lost look on his face, the way her friends-- his crew mates-- starred in stunned silence.

Gathering in wait, they'd seemed scared that he'd come rip-roaring in, still possessed, with a snarling attack. Magus was practically shivering in her boots, and Baines had even candidly announced that he dreaded Danziger's return.

That John was himself again had been plain the instant he'd crossed the threshold, but they still hesitated at the sight of him standing there shamefully. It had been the exact opposite of what they were expecting, and yet twice as unsettling. Scared to meet their eyes, his defeated presence made clear what the experience had cost him. He'd been trembling with remorse for the actions he'd had no control over.

Later, John had confided in Bess that what bothered him most wasn't that he'd destroyed the equipment or even that he'd hurt Alonzo, but that he'd somehow fooled them all.

Eden Advance had welcomed him back with open arms, sure, but Danziger didn't feel he deserved it. He'd abused and intimidated them, compromised their safety, and whether or not he was responsible, he knew in his heart that he'd damaged the trust they'd placed in him.

She could only imagine what he was feeling now.

Devon's face was crumpling again, but her voice betrayed nothing but the love she clearly felt for him, and the resolve she had to help John through this.

"Don't you be sorry," She pleaded firmly, almost threateningly, full of sentiment that couldn't be hidden. "Don't be sorry, John, you just get back here, okay? We just want you and True home safe, do you hear me? We'll get through this together."

"Dev…" He whispered, uttering her name like a prayer. Bess could hear in his voice everything he was trying to say, and all of it--the apologies and confessions and promises--were reflected just as plainly on Devon's face.

Danziger's health was all that mattered now, and Bess could hear Julia murmuring just that, her barely audible admonishment filled with patience and care. With everything they'd been through, this was hardly ideal circumstances for professions of love.

There would be plenty of time.

"Doc says times up." John informed them breathily, clearly exerting himself. Bess smirked at John's singular ability to disregard common sense. They would have to work on that, but she would see to it that he didn't lose it completely. It was part of who he was and she loved him for it. They all did.

"Okay, Danziger. I'm coming to meet you, you just rest up. You just get back safe," Devon rambled, her voice hitching tellingly. Bess knew her friend wouldn't really be pacified until she could see John with her own two eyes, just as she wouldn't be content until she'd made things right with him. "I'll see you soon, I promise. I'll be there soon."

"Hey, Adair?" John mumbled lightly, the rough timbre of his voice washing over Devon like the rain, calming her ragged breathing.

"Hey, Danziger?" She answered, playing along the same as always, just as Bess began to make out the shape of the Dunerail creeping closer in the distance.

"I love you," He whispered, before a muted click signaled that someone, probably Julia, had terminated the connection.

Bess waved at the oncoming vehicle, coyly stealing a glimpse at Devon's stunned expression.

On the other hand, maybe now was the perfect time for professions of love.

They had a long road ahead of them, but Danziger's simple, publicly intimate admission had opened the gates, and like a woman possessed Devon wiped away her tears, steeling herself before breaking out in a steady run in the direction of the vehicle.

Alonzo's laugh pealed through the open channel, and Bess squinted to make out his face as she, too, hurried to meet the oncoming rescue party and their precious cargo.

"Well I'll say this," the pilot snickered, heaving another sigh, "the man sure knows how to make an entrance."


	17. Chapter 17

It had been the only thing he could think of to say.

Besides 'I'm sorry," which he'd covered right off the bat, and would somehow prove to his family and friends if he died trying.

Now that they'd saved his ass.

Despite the harrowing day he'd experienced, all the revelations and drama, it was the last few seconds before safety, the last two miles, that were on constant replay. They flashed across the inside of his eyelids-- Alonzo, sopping wet and grinning, Bess holding True like a baby while she cried, Devon's cheek resting against his own, uncharacteristically silent while she wrapped her warmth around him-- hour after hour they raced, as Julia bandaged and injected and reminded him that he wasn't fooling her and had better go to sleep.

_I love you._

He'd just blurted it out. In front of True, and Lonz and Julia and God knows how many other members of the crew listening in on Gear. There were a million things he could have said instead, or he could have simply obeyed the pounding in his skull and gone back to sleep resting comfortably in Julia's lap, but he'd needed to hear Devon's voice again. Just to be sure he could it-- return to camp and face the music.

_I love you._

He figured that made him pretty damn sure.

Devon had yet to return the sentiment, not that it mattered to Danziger. In fact, she'd hardly said a word, but the comfortable silence spoke for her. She was there for him, unconditionally. She wanted him to know she was staying.

The way Devon had clung to him, refusing to be budged by Julia's protestations and Bess' pleading, still had his senses reeling. She'd leapt the frame of the rail and hadn't let go, in constant contact with his body around Plasma-Boosts and sweeps of the Dia Glove, until Julia had shoed everyone from the Med Tent about an hour ago.

She'd given Yale a sleep-aid for Devon, who had been under the impression that she would be returning shortly to the Med-Tent after changing into some drier clothes. John had caught most of their hushed conversation, and Julia seemed adamant that what the exhausted pair of them needed now, more than anything, was rest.

John had been strangely grateful, as sorry as he'd been to see Devon go. He was beholden to her with every cell of his body and every thread of his tangled mind, but at the moment it was threatening to overwhelm him.

In the 'Rail, he'd tried his best to look like he wasn't bleeding to death and on the tail end of a nervous break down, but the reality was he needed her close just as much as she did. It was as though the pain of loosing Ellie, his constant burden, was being lifted even as Devon's soft weight pressed harder against him.

He'd drifted in and out for the rest of the short ride back, and through most of the preliminaries at the Med Tent, but even when he dozed he could always sense her there, keeping watch. Every time he awoke it was to her hand on his cheek or raking its way through his hair.

She wasn't the only one who'd clammed up. Truth was, neither one of them had been able to speak.

It was probably the longest the two of 'em had gone since they'd landed without asking, or shouting, or demanding a single thing from each other. Since his first brush with Devon on the bridge of the Roanoke, it had always been a competition: two headstrong individuals with a universe of differences, keeping score of who gave and who took.

They were both always right, life on G889 wasn't black and white and he and Devon both realized that. But they were both always to blame, too, for sticking to their guns and getting in each other's way. They'd both eaten a lot of crow after their disastrous scout for water, but it sure as hell hadn't stopped them from hen-pecking.

They'd been searching for weaknesses in each other, treating their pride and fear like currency while they pulled towards a common goal from two different directions.

Miles and miles behind them, and they had just taken the first step.

True was safe, and she'd be well by tomorrow, and Bess had put her to bed in the Martin's tent with tender care and soothing hands of her own. John felt blessed that the Earth-Res was a part his life, especially when he was too banged up to be much of a dad, and needed a little mothering himself.

Just the notion that Danziger could have thought ill of Bess' intentions toward his daughter should have been proof enough that he wasn't in his right mind, right off the bat.

He'd ignored her, discounted her concern and harbored resentment that she'd learned to love his child as her own.

John was disgusted with himself.

Just like everyone else, she should've been angry. More than anyone else, maybe, she should've been hurt, but Bess welcomed him home with nothing but a beaming smile and a few stray tears. She'd become a confidant, someone he could confide in and ask for guidance, and he'd been terrified he'd alienated the one person in Eden Advance who had never once judged him. Luckily for him, Bess came from better stock.

Danziger was sure she'd have more to say on the subjects, both his panicked flight and his Gear conversation with Devon. He certainly had more to say to her, much more than his mumbled and shivering apology back in the 'Rail, but she'd accepted it with a compassionate smile that put that particular ache in his heart at ease.

Reaching around his exhausted daughter, curled in her lap in the cramped front seat, Bess had squeezed his hand with surprising strength and whispered, "We all go a little crazy sometimes. Welcome back."

John was glad to _be_ back, even if he was starting to feel that he'd never really been there to begin with. That would change now, and deep down he knew he was ready.

_I love you._

He'd better be, cause he'd already gone and told Adair that he was.

"John, please go to sleep."

Julia's hushed request startled him a bit, breaking the hush of the Med Tent. He'd almost forgotten she was there, no small feat considering his dislike of medical treatment. He'd always thought of Julia as a friend first and a doctor second, and she'd always been there for him whether she was patching him up or defending his actions. Over the months, he'd learned to accept her attentive presence as a second silence.

She'd taken his side over Alonzo's with the Grendler, no matter how diplomatically, and he hadn't forgotten that. They'd shared a midnight cup of coffee the night he helped the Grendler bury it's mate, and she'd reminded him no matter how guilt-stricken or misunderstood the group was making him feel, his actions had saved the scout party.

Julia's scientific mind had a knack for making things plain and simple when the going got rough, and unlike his impulsive fits of bravado she had the skills to back up the tough calls and split decisions. While John begrudgingly acknowledged he was pragmatic to a fault, Julia remained hopeful even as she understood that sometimes the hard truth _was_ in fact, the truth.

Besides, they both specialized in repairs.

In a strange way, Danziger could understand why Julia had The Council; he could understand her sense of vision and her good intentions. All of her and hopes for the future that had been dashed by politics and conspiracy and plain old greed. Even before True had found her out, she'd been protecting them and making her own choices, evaluating her allegiances. Her deflection notwithstanding, he had to admit that Julia Heller was probably the best operative the council had ever possessed.

John was much happier to have her on his team.

"I'm tryin,' Doc," He mumbled, cracking open an eyelid exhaustedly to study her face. "It's not as easy as it looks."

She looked like a drowned rat, having barely stopped her tending long enough to pull her hair back. Her clothes had mostly dried, though, with her frantic activity. Worry lines had taken permanent residence on her brow, but Danziger tried to remind himself that, his remorse aside, all her stitching and poking was fair enough revenge.

He felt like a human pincushion.

"Am I hurting you?" She asked as if reading his mind, her Dia-Glove hovering as her fingers drummed with energy. There was guilt in her voice that John didn't like one bit. Here he'd gone and thrown them all out of Bess' infamous 'frying pan' and into the fire, and the whole lot of 'em were acting like they'd been the ones to light the match.

"You saved my ass," he grunted as she aerated the wound on his thigh. He could really use another pain block, but the damn things always gave him the willies. Ever since the fiasco with Adair and the worm bullet, he'd decided if he was gonna have someone tinkering around in his insides, he'd just as soon know if they're going the right way.

"I can give you something," she attempted, not looking up from what she was doing.

"You had my back, Julia. And that means a lot to me." He cracked the other eyelid, watching her work. "I hate lyin' to my little girl. And, she kept askin' if I was gonna be okay--" he gasped, wincing.

"There's no need for you to feel any of this, Danziger," she sighed, threading a Micro-Mend with Dermasynth wire. "Let me give you a pain block."

"You're avoidin' me," he chuckled, calling her out. He hadn't meant any ill intent, nor had he expected her reaction.

"And you're avoiding sleep!" she burst forth, fuming, "Like an idiot man-child who's trying to pretend he hasn't been up for fourty-eight hours and didn't almost just get himself killed!" Her hissed outburst was as hushed and furious as a high-school girl spreading gossip. John almost laughed again, before his pounding head caught onto the fact that she was being respectful of his privacy, protecting his feelings even if she couldn't control her own anymore.

And that he was acting like an ass.

"Hey," He whispered, tugging on her sleeve. "You gonna let me finish, or what?"

"I should have seen this coming, John. I'm so sorry, I should have realized that you needed help."

Her wavering voice just about broke his heart.

"Shhh," he soothed, "Listen to me for a second, will you?" He pulled on her cuff again, until he could catch her hand. Julia's eyes were filled with tears she was desperately trying not to cry.

"I don't know what I was thinkin,' running off like that…draggin' True. I had no right takin' that vehicle and I had no business thinkin' those shankin' thoughts that were in my head."

He sighed, a congested sound of contempt for his behavior.

"Danziger, you weren't reasoning clearly, you can't blame--"

"I'm here right now because of True. She saved me from myself, even when I realized what I'd done, and that I might not come out the other side. She kept me goin.' And she kept remindin' that you were comin' and that you'd make it better."

Julia blinked quickly, shaking loose the tears, and Danziger patted her arm.

"And I believed her, Doc," he reminded the woman gently, "because I knew she was right. I told her I was goin' to be fine, and it was the truth. You don't owe me any apologies, Julia. I should have come to you, I shouldn't have been so stubborn. It's my own damn fault for not…for thinkin' I was…" He floundered, unable to define what had come over him that morning. A moment of clarity? Insanity? Be it spiritual or physical, Danziger had no clue, nor did he think he could ever explain it.

He wasn't sure he wanted to try.

"It's going to take some time, Danziger." Julia reminded him at his extensive silence, squeezing his hand before going back to her sutures. "Wait until you're rested, then we can have a talk to discuss…well, whatever you want to discuss. Privately, patient to doctor."

Danziger swallowed hard, nodding. Closing his eyes, he was instantly greeted with the sight of Devon's tear-stained face, leaning in so closely that their noses were touching.

He was never going to get to sleep.

"Now's good," he endeavored lamely. Julia shook her head, and before Danziger could argue she swiftly injected him with a dose of pain block. He grunted, sitting up a bit in offence. "No fair!"

"Now is _not_ good, John," she chuckled exasperatedly, watching as he relaxed back against his pillow, shrugging in defeat. "Now is time for sleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," he argued crassly, deciding to enjoy the medication flushing the pain from his body in a quiet rush, now that he didn't have a say in the matter.

"Danziger, if you don't let your body…let me put it this way, I'll kill you myself if you don't go to sleep." She volleyed back, and he shut his eyes, suitably chastised.

"Well, in the mean time, I hope you'll accept my apology," He mumbled, as she bandaged his leg and moved to the head of the bed to clean a cut on his cheek.

"Apology for what?" She asked tiredly, blowing on his face a bit as she applied an astringent disinfectant. His answer was a long time coming.

"Everything," He finally clarified, furrowing his brow a bit as she poked and prodded.

"Unacceptable. Too broad. If you want me to take this seriously, you can only pick one thing."

John didn't have to open his eyes to hear the smile in her voice. "Be realistic, John, you're not responsible for every evil that has ever befallen Eden Advance. You've got to learn the difference between being sorry and feeling responsible."

"I do feel responsible," He confessed softly. "For all of it."

"And that's why you're so important to all of us." She reminded him, stroking his hair away from his face. Julia had never touched him like that before, out of compassion rather than necessity, and it shook him. "We're responsible for our own actions, John. Yes, we all look to you because we know you're there for us, but you've got to learn to let all of us be there for you, too."

Danziger didn't reply. He knew she was right.

"So if you think it will make you feel better to apologize for something, then go ahead. Shoot. But you only get one," she teased as she reloaded the Micro-Mend, making quick work of the minor laceration.

"Okay then," Danziger acquiesced begrudgingly, the corner of his mouth twitching a bit as he decided. "I'll make it count. I'm sorry I raised my hand with all the rest of 'em, that day we voted to leave you behind. It was the wrong thing to do, and I could have stopped it."

Julia stopped cold, her hands hovering millimeters from his weather-beaten face. He cracked an eyelid, but she was looking away from him, off into the distance of some private nightmare Danziger would never understand.

It was hers, to trace and admire, like his own scars from the past. They were all of them suffering alone, hiding the pain.

It was foolish.

"I accept your apology, John," she responded softly, touching his cheek.

"Good." He whispered, thankful for her companionship. "Somethin' I shoulda said a long time ago."

He was beginning to think he might be able to sleep after all, considering he felt so much warmer now that the pain block had settled into place. Julia was right, it was time to let it all go for now. Tomorrow he'd be able to ponder things more clearly.

Moving to the foot of the bed to remove his waterlogged boots, Julia broke the silence just when he thought he was off the hook.

"I guess that would make it the second thing today that you 'should've said' a long time ago," the doctor mused lightly, tugging at his shoelaces.

He'd known it was going to come up sooner or later.

"What you said to Devon, earlier…It was the right thing to say." She began rubbing his foot with a warm cloth, no doubt eyeing him suspiciously. He decided to play dead.

"You've been under a lot of pressure, and your feelings for Devon play a large part, whether or not that's something you're willing to accept. But you owe yourself some happiness, John. I hope you're beginning to understand that."

She moved on to his right foot, pinching his big toe lightly.

"Now _you're_ avoiding _me_," Julia pointed out. "I can always tell when your faking, Danziger."

With a huff he broke from his routine, squinting at her in disbelief.

"You told me to sleep! I'm tryin,'" He growled as she tucked the blankets into the foot of the bed, amused.

"You're a lousy liar," she taunted affectionately.

"I'm even worse at tellin' the truth, it seems." Danziger had meant it as a joke, but the embers of compassion in her eyes flared brighter, and he had to look away. She took his hand in hers and studied his raw knuckles, wiping them carefully. When he glanced back, she was smiling.

"Well, you're certainly off to the races now, Romeo."

Danziger was speechless. He was endlessly amazed at Julia's ability to call his bluff. No matter when he thought he had her cornered, she was always two steps ahead of him. He had to respect her for that much. Hell, he loved her for it.

Not that he didn't put up a good fight.

"You said you wanted me to rest," he declared smugly, determined to be as cranky and old as possible.

"And _you_ told me you wanted to talk," She reminded him sarcastically, wrapping tape around his sprained finger.

"Since when do you listen to your patients?" He snorted in retort, scratching his beard with his free hand, running it up to rub his eyes wearily.

"About the same time you started listening to your physician, " The young doctor informed him dryly, and he knew there was no way he was going to win this round.

"He's not asleep?" Bess asked shyly, creeping under the flap of the tent carrying a flannel undershirt and a small pile of clothing.

"He's not asleep." Julia confirmed, giving him a knowing smile.

He was pretty much screwed, he figured, now that Bess was here. It wasn't like Julia to be worked up over his little declaration to Adair, but the fact that Bess hadn't so much as mentioned it yet was a small miracle to say the least.

John didn't like them treating him with kid gloves, but to keep up the hale and hearty act was exhausting.

"I'm not asleep." he teased, winking to dispel the look of concern on the Earth-Res' face.

He wasn't quite successful.

"Why isn't he asleep?" She asked Julia, ignoring him for the moment but taking his outstretched hand as an afterthought.

"You know why he's not asleep." Julia deadpanned. Bess grinned.

Danziger didn't like it one bit.

"I'm driftin' off. Any second now," he assured them sardonically, though it wasn't until he'd already spoken that John realized that the pain block was making it harder for him to focus. He decided he must either look like shit or be telling the truth, because Julia didn't contradict him any further.

Bess dropped his hand in order to pull up a crate, and once she was seated she snatched it back, leaning in meet his eyes. Danziger had never felt so fragile, never had so many people lay hands on him in life, like they had to be sure he was still there. John didn't fight it, because…truth was, he could use the reminding.

"True's snoring like a sailor," Bess informed him softly, rubbing his icy hand between her own. They were so warm that Danziger thought that he might be able to fend off the chill after all. "You should be too, John."

It was obvious that she wasn't going to press him into talking about anything he wasn't ready for, but that she would get it out of him eventually. Danziger was counting on it.

"How is she?" he asked gravely, instantly repentant that he could possibly be thinking of anything else.

"She's going to be fine, John." Bess pledged, running a hand up his arm to tug on his jacket collar. "As long as your still up, let's get you into some warm clothes, okay?"

Groaning theatrically at the thought, Danziger nevertheless hefted himself to his elbows, and with a bit of tugging from Julia and Bess was quickly upright.

"That's not an answer, Bess, that's a platitude," he enlightened sarcastically, stiffly shrugging his shoulders as she pried the sodden fabric from his skin.

"She will be," Julia seconded, scrubbing gently at his hair with a towel. "By now her bruises are probably fully healed. She'll be one hundred percent by tomorrow."

Completely spent, Danziger couldn't do much more than sit there in defeat while they thawed him out. It was just so shankin' nice to feel warm for a change, he figured he may as well accept it for what it was.

Comfort.

"It's not the scrapes I'm worried about." He sniffled a bit, closing his eyes as Julia rubbed the soft fabric in circles over his back. He didn't know where to begin with True, how he could make something like this up to her.

"All that matters to True is that you're safe, John." Bess scrunched the fabric of the shirt in her fists, waiting for Julia to mend a long scratch on his shoulder blade before easing it cautiously over his head, mindful of his cheek. "This is gonna roll off of her like rain on a duck, you'll see. Everything she went through, how scared she was, none of that matters as long as you're here with her. She'll keep the good and forget the bad, John. Children always do."

Danziger shivered a bit, sighing in frustration when it required Bess' help to thread his leaden arm through it's sleeve. The shirt was far too small for him, but the warm flannel stretched across his back was reassuring, like it would hold him together long enough so that he could rest.

"Haven't done her much good lately," he whispered, finding himself near tears. He cried so easily ever since they'd hit this damn rock, working so hard to block it all out that the slightest pain would set him off. Didn't seem to matter if it was the beauty of the sunset in the desert, or True's trembling chin, or a worm bullet boring through his gut.

That last one had really hurt like hell, though.

"Give her some time," Bess instructed calmly, buttoning the small buttons with a hopeful smile, "and give her all your love, and a month from now she'll look back at today and think of it only as the day she finally discovered her mother."

John was silent, calculating the implications her statement, wondering exactly what True had divulged, and why, exactly, it mattered.

He realized it didn't.

Eleanor Moor would be remembered. She was part of their lives, and it wasn't fair to True to ask her to keep it to herself. Danziger would learn to talk about her in time, but for now Ellie's daughter could carry the torch. And she should hold it high.

"Who's shirt did I steal?" He changed the topic wearily, speaking to Bess but looking to Julia, silently wondering if she felt the same way the Earth-Res did, about True shaking the trauma he'd inflicted. The doctor was studying his face compassionately as she dislodged a twig caught in his curls. Nodding in agreement, she began to remove the worst of the gunk from his hair.

Danziger decided he felt about five years old sitting there, droopy eyed, with his shirt sleeves three inches too short, passively letting Julia Heller brush his hair. Still, he could feel his anxiety drifting away.

"It was in the Grendler stash," Bess admonished lightly, "You deserve the spoils just as much as anyone else here, John. More so, even. It's not ste--"

"Okay, okay…Geez,'" he griped good naturedly as Julia finished grooming him. Bess turned to the pile of clothing, searching for something, and figured now was as good a time as any to draw the line in the sand. "I can do the pants myself, ladies."

Julia chortled at his wry tone, shaking her head in defeat as she scanned his head. Again.

He didn't know what she was hoping to find, but he was pretty sure her Dia-Glove couldn't diagnose 'off the deep end.' Then again, maybe it could. It gave him the creeps, what that little piece of alloy could do, and Danziger knew there was no way in hell he could ever wield that thing with any sort of proficiency.

Relishing his lethargic numbness, he figured maybe he would give Adair credit where credit was due in that arena, and just take the damn pain blocks when Julia offered them in the future.

Bess chuckled at his juvenile humor, finally tossing a pair of dark blue pants into his lap.

"These from the stash, too?" He questioned, dismayed to find his voice drunken with fatigue.

"No, John, those are yours," she reminded him kindly. He scrubbed his eyes and on closer inspection he realized Bess was right, though it had been years since he'd rolled them into the neat little bundle. "True gave them to me. She said they'd been in your pack this whole time."

Danziger could feel her studying his expression, aware of the questions she wasn't asking, and he tossed his head in her direction, twirling his finger at her with benevolent impatience. He didn't respond until both she Julia had turned their backs to him for some privacy.

He smiled, tracing the pocket of the navy, military issue slacks, remembering their past. He wondered if this was the time to finally wear them. He also wondered if he'd be able to get the damn things on without falling off the cot.

"These are my emergency pants," He grunted in clarification, swinging his legs slowly off the bunk. Lord, he was tired, but the strangely accusatory backs of his two friends demanded an answer.

At least this was one he felt capable of giving.

"Back when I was in the service with Alex…Wentworth," he paused, timidly unsure if the others even remembered that Alex and Les had ever _been_ on this planet, much less their names. It had been so short a time; a few bad days for the rest of Eden Advance, but for John and True it had been some of the hardest.

He'd never really let anyone know what he lost, back when he'd caught what killed them but lived to tell the tale. Firestein and Wentworth were his two closest friends, but there hadn't been time for more than a brief service and internment, and Danziger had been weak on all counts; he hadn't trusted himself to speak. He wished now he'd preserved his friends memory, rather than hiding behind a shankin' virus.

"Our unit seemed to have one close call after another, computer malfunctions, crash landings , you name it." He wheezed a faint chuckle as he struggled to unbutton his fly, his fingertips throbbing with warmth, pretty much useless. "I was tough, but Alex…she woulda wiped the floor with me, any day of the week. Her whole life she'd been sick, she'd been through so much and yet, she never lost her cool. Me, on the other hand," Danziger snorted, abandoning the button, instead carefully unfolding the pants. "I was a wimp."

"I'm sure you were a real Bruno," Bess murmured in soft affirmation and Julia huffed out a small laugh. With a confused shake of the head Danziger studied the fabric intently, lost to his thoughts.

"Our troop was headin' down to earth for an environmental recon mission. We were supposed to scan for wildlife, test water samples, that kind of basic recruit stuff. Busy work. When we hit orbit, hell, that freighter sank like a stone. The deceleration unit melted clean off the hull I panicked, froze up, but Alex got me into my crash-gear, she just kept talkin' to me and holdin' my hand. She got me through it."

John wiped his eyes, still absently caressing the inky synth-cotton. A tear hit the fabric, and he smeared it with his thumb. "When we got back Station-side, Alex got promoted to another project. Day she left I found these in my unit."

Unconsciously, John found himself refolding the pants at their well-worn creases.

It didn't seem right.

"She left me a note: "Thought you might need these the next time a little turbulence makes you piss your pants." He carefully set the bundle aside, grinning from ear to ear.

Sensing it was safe, Julia pivoted to face him and when he showed no resistance Bess followed suit. They were staring at him with twin expressions of sympathy, and Danziger rolled his eyes. This pity bullshit rubbed him the wrong way. He hefted his left leg gingerly back onto the cot, pretending not to see Julia's displeasure as she hurried to assist him.

"So you've never even worn them?" Bess pondered, no doubt marveling at his unexpected candor.

"I think I saw somethin' that'll fit me in that Grendler's stash," he weakly informed Bess, reclining lethargically. "If it's all the same, I think I'll save these for a real emergency."

Bess giggled, leaning in to kiss his forehead sweetly as she reverently gathered up the pants. Julia shook her head in amazement.

"And just what constitutes a real emergency, Danziger?" She piled on the blankets, settling him in the way he was, damp pants and all. "Hemo-Boost," she explained, injecting him for the umpteenth time, smiling as she removed her Dia-Glove and rotated her stiff wrist.

"I figure I'll know it when I see it," He whispered, adjusting his weight fussily until he was finally comfortable. Bess tugged the blankets up to his chin. Both women silently accepted his answer.

"I wish there was chicken soup on this planet," She whispered regrettably, and John rumbled a small laugh, eyes shut.

"I'm gonna be fine, Bess," he reminded her softly, freeing his hand and searching till he found hers. This touching thing was contagious.

"Sure are," she replied, squeezing him back for good measure before tucking his arm back under the covers.

Breathing a deep sigh, Danziger lied there, enjoying the relative quiet. Julia was endlessly fussing with the heating unit blowing on his feet, not taking for granted that he'd somehow escaped frostbite. Bess was still there, she was silent but he could feel her looming not far from his bed.

Letting himself doze, John's thoughts instantly drifted back to the Dunerail. The hair that framed Devon's face had been plastered to her cheeks, while the rest flew in the wind as she tossed her head, following Julia's movements intently. She was wedged between his knees and the frame of the 'Rail, and yet more than anything, Danziger had wished he'd possessed the strength to pull her closer.

""How'd you guys find me?" He mumbled fuzzily, shaking himself awake, avoiding the inevitable tooth and nail.

"Shhhh. Later, Danziger. Go to sleep," Julia scolded lightly, and Bess' boots padded softly closer.

"It's a long story," her hand came to rest on the crown of his head, "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, John, get some sleep."

Sleep sounded like heaven, and Danziger knew it wasn't far off. Trouble was, the trip there was rocky few miles in an overfull vehicle.

Alonzo had really been putting on the speed, even in such precarious circumstances, Danziger was aware of the strain on the 'Rail's engine. He'd kept his mouth shut about it, only because his tongue felt numb, and partly because he'd driven it into the ground himself, while he'd had shankin' Zero dismantling the Transrover. Mostly though, it had been because Devon's hands were on his face, her fingers unconsciously massaging his hairline, and she was staring into his eyes like she could see his soul.

"Wanna hear it," John grunted, his head lolling in Bess' general direction.

"Go back to sleep!" Julia huffed, her patience wearing thin. "I really don't want to sedate you, Danziger, but I'll do it."

"Wasn't asleep,'" he clarified matter-of-factly, his thin voice decidedly lacking credibility.

"That conversation was five minutes ago, John." At Bess' amused disclosure, he cracked open an eyelid to prove them both wrong.

It was too damn quiet to sleep. It made his thoughts all the louder.

"John--" Julia approached, looking pissed and exhausted. Squeezing his eyes shut, he cut her off.

"Julia, please, I'm trying, just…I need…" Bess' hand found his forehead again, and he swallowed thickly. He needed it all to stop. "I'll sleep, just somebody please talk to me."

He opened his eyes to implore, and the sight of Bess' pretty face helped dispel his anxiety. She would understand.

"Keep me _here_," he whispered.

Bess nodded.

Julia cleared her throat softly, rising from his side to hurry to her work table, swiping her cheek. In the pit of his stomach, Danziger felt the familiar burn of shame as wondered how she was capable of detaching herself, ever and always under control. The last time he'd seen the doctor in such a state as she was this afternoon, Julia had been trying to persuade Martin to drink Grendler blood. She'd been emotional, fraught with so much insidious knowledge of the human body and it's failings. She'd been convinced they were done for.

John had done her damage today, plain and simple. She looked so weary, and he was to blame.

It was all his fault.

His eyes darted back to Bess, who had fished her hand under the Solar-Fleece and taken a firm grasp of his own. The remorse was creeping back into focus, and he'd had more than enough clarity for one day.

Bess shook her head, coaxing him to calm down by rubbing her hand across his chest in soothing circles.

"It's okay," she shushed him. "We're right here, and True's safe and sound. Devon's sleeping, and she's so thankful that you're back, and that you were courageous enough to tell her how you feel. Tomorrow is another day, John."

Danziger sniffed, nodding agreement, willing himself to relax.

"Thank you, Bess," he whispered.

"Close your eyes now," she cooed in return, and he did.

"Uly told us first," she began softly, "but we weren't really sure what he was going on about until Baines ran into the Mess Tent screaming that Zero had 'gone bananas.' which surprised me at the time, because I haven't heard anyone use that phrase in a dog's age and certainly not since I left for the stations…"

John could feel his toes again, and they were warm. He was warm all over, he mused with relief, and he felt himself sink a little deeper into the comfort of the only padded cot in the whole damn camp. As Bess recounted the day's events in her endearing way, Danziger attempted to clear his mind of everything but what mattered _right now_.

He pictured his baby girl sleeping soundly, his mind blurring away the scrape on her chin and the bruise on her cheekbone, all the tears. Now she was resting comfortably, purring in her sleep the way she did when she'd tuckered herself out. Now she wouldn't have to worry about him anymore, because he was gonna get his shit together and help her go back to being a kid again. Now, John realized, she would never mistake Dell Curry or anyone else for her mother.

And now, in Devon, she would finally have one.

Danziger envisioned Devon's face, not as she'd been this afternoon, but right now, relaxed in slumber. Now that she knew how much she meant to him, he imagined her in content repose: the curve of her parted lips, her smooth brow, her small hand curled against her chin.

John's mind drifted through Eden Advance's camp to where, right now, Walman held Magus to his chest. To Yale slumbering in peace, to Uly's messy curls burrowed in his pillow. Mazatl in his hammock. Alonzo's dreamless doze, Denner's covers pulled up over her head, Baines reclining on the exposed bench of the 'Rover, Cameron snoring to wake the dead, Martin…Morgan…still awake and watching his kid, as eager to be back in this reality as Danziger himself, and back to True, purring away…now he was back where he belonged, surrounded by the people who had become his family.

Now he could finally welcome sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

John Danziger hadn't touched a tool in two whole days.

Standing in line, waiting for the rations Walman was dutifully dishing out, Bess mused that it seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.

Granted, Julia _had_actually done just that, and she had been on his case ever since like a bloodhound tracking a fox, no doubt more concerned with his mental state than his rapidly healing body. The walls were coming down, and although John had slept for nearly twenty-four hours and had been hidden away with True ever since, Bess had already noted an ease in his expression and a quickness to smile that she'd never seen in him before. Bess had realized back in the Dunerail, watching Danziger cling to Devon like a life raft, that all this time she'd known him, she'd known a broken man.

She thought it would be a happy task, reacquainting herself with John Danziger, especially since she already treasured him as one of her closest friends.

He hadn't protested to Julia, not even once the rain stopped and camp was filled with shafts of brilliant sunlight. He'd left his tent only to use the latrine, and once earlier today-- like a man getting back on his surly horse-- to spend some time with True riding in the newly repaired 'Rail. It appeared to everyone in their drip-drying camp that Danziger had had finally resigned himself to taking the break he desperately needed.

Bess had seen precious little of him after she'd lulled him to sleep in the Med Tent the night before last. She checked in on him, sure, always with a soft '_it's me, John' _that was met by a rumbling welcome, but once Julia had deemed it okay for him to go back to his own cot, he and True-- and sometimes Devon and Uly-- had been secluded in the dilapidated dome. It seemed to Bess that she was an intrusion and, no matter how happy or sometimes relieved John seemed by her presence, she knew he needed this time for himself and his child.

True had joined the group around the campfire again last night while her dad dozed, and Bess was relieved to see that she'd been right in her reassurances to the girl's father. The Ops crew had set aside their own conflicted feelings and had provided a uniform front of support for the weary girl from the second she'd left her father's side. Though Bess suspected it would be a bit longer before True was back to her normal, outspoken self, she seemed content enough to be safe and back with her family.

Bess and Morgan had sat with the little girl long into the night, the evening of the rescue. True had been out-of-sorts in the Med Tent, still reeling from shock and fatigue, and when had Julia left her dad's side to give her a thorough once-over, she would talk of nothing but the fact that he needed help, despite Julia and Devon's assurances that he was out of harm's way. Her lower lip trembling, True's eyes were fixed on her father's pale face as she whispered 'He's loosing all his blood' over and over.

She was covered in it, and that wasn't helping matters, so much so that Julia thought it would be best that she get cleaned up and spend sometime away from the sight of Danziger unraveling. She'd entrusted the girl to the Martins, counting on them to block out all the other rabble and focus solely on the young girl's needs.

Bess had settled True snuggly on their bedroll, dressed in some of the new-found clothes and tucked securely between she and Morgan, and scrubbed and petted until there wasn't a trace of her father's blood left on her small hands or smeared on her cheek.

Morgan, the only other person who truly knew what she'd experienced, had seemed to know that True needed to talk about it and had gently coaxed her to let it all out. Too fragile to put up much resistance, the little girl had slowly explained, as best as she could, the events of the day as Bess brushed the tangles from her hair. She kept repeating certain things over and over again, while they patiently listened, insisting that she'd been the one to burn out the rail with the emergency break, not her dad.

She also kept reminding them, in a small frightened voice, that she wouldn't have gone under the tree if there had been any lightening.

Finally her thoughts had turned to real the reason behind all the drama, and she bluntly relayed the missing pieces, from her father's conflict regarding his feelings for Devon and her mother's memory, to the stories he'd told her, everything from the night they'd met at the _Drone Trash _concert, to ger dad grinning down at her with his split lip on the day she was born, right up to dancing with awkward Danny Patel, watching her dad twirl a stranger in his arms.

After she'd finally fallen asleep, still clutching her father's pack which she refused to let out of her sight, Bess had extricated herself from True's embrace and gently passed her off to Morgan. It was then she found John still awake in the Med Tent. At the time, as she'd assured him of that True would be fine, she'd been lying through her stinking teeth, scared as ever for the girl's health. However, when True had awoken the next afternoon to find herself safely in her daddy's arms, being carried to her own bed, she'd lost every trace of confusion and fear.

Bess was relieved to know that her good faith had paid off. True was satisfied just to have her father safe and home, and Bess knew that there wasn't a soul in camp who wasn't.

Regardless of the fact that they were avoiding him like the plague.

With a wistful smile, Bess couldn't help but acknowledge that none of them, not even Magus or Walman, had even ventured into the vicinity of the Danziger's tent. After Denner and Cameron had patched up the hole in Danziger's roof as best they could and Baines had moved the vehicles to the other side of camp to afford the exhausted pair some peace, they'd pretty much steered clear and seemed loath to intrude.

Inching closer to the stale aroma of Protein Paste, Bess mentally took stock of her companions.

Everyone had reacted to the recent events in their own, uncanny ways, but it seemed that while it would take them some time to digest there own feelings of disillusionment and betrayal, no one truly held John accountable for his actions.

The sticky part was, Bess knew that only Danziger's crew themselves would be able to convince their boss of this.

Denner and Baines, not surprisingly, were on egg shells. They'd whipped each other into a paranoid frenzy, and while their concern was only for John and his ultimate well-being, they seemed scared he'd lost it completely. Baines in particular had surprised her, when he'd scratched at the flap of her tent this morning, gravely inquiring about John's mental health. All traces of his usual paranoia were gone, and instead he wore a grave expression that spoke volumes about his sincere worry for the Ops Chief.

Bess had convinced him that with a little rest, Danziger would be good as new. She'd also reminded Baines that John would need his friends' support and understanding in the next few days, but to her dismay it seemed he'd taken her council as a sign to keep his distance. She knew that there were times when John and Baines' friendship was strained, to say the last, and so she was hesitant to press him further.

Magus was furious, and had told her as much when Bess had tactfully suggested that she pay Danziger a visit. Despite her concern for the mechanic and his little girl, she--who had worked for John on many a maintenance crew-- felt deceived by Danziger's strange behavior. Bess had felt beleaguered to disclose more than she felt prudent to both she and Walman, who had known John when he'd been nothing more than a young man in love.

She figured that, even if it was overstepping her bounds, at the very least the two crew members shared a history with Danziger that no one else in the group, even Devon, could appreciate. Magus would need time, but Bess had faith that she'd come around, and in the meantime, Walman would make sure she'd tread lightly.

Cameron had worn a sweet, lost expression throughout the search for the Danzigers and their subsequent rescue. Though he and Mazatl normally kept to themselves, they'd both also turned to Bess for information on John's condition, and more importantly what they could do to help. She'd begrudgingly given them the same advice she's imparted to Baines, not sure what else she could say.

She, Devon and Yale, the only three members of Eden Advance to know the true circumstances behind John's situation-- besides True, of course-- had mutually agreed that the specifics behind his distress would be kept a secret, until the event that John himself wanted to discuss it. In as much, there'd been a short group meeting last night after True had left for her bed and the safety of her father's arms, to explain the events of the day and inform the group that, despite the break in the rain, they were staying put.

Devon had been diplomatic, as always, but had put up an unconvincing façade while facing her friends, whom she knew had all heard the exchange between John and herself the evening prior. She'd been flustered and distracted, uneasy being away from Danziger's side, but she'd made it clear that everyone would be taking a few more days to rest.

Julia had seemed preoccupied as well, but Bess knew that she had been having trouble keeping her burgeoning emotions in check, and would rather stick to the purely medical diagnosis of her patient and subsequent treatment, which would be the reason they'd postponed travel for the time being. Everyone had understood, and seemed pacified with Julia's explanation, but Bess couldn't let it rest; not when looking the other way had gotten them here, worried for Danziger's welfare.

She'd refused to mince words.

When the group had learned that John's…episode had been caused by stress and anxiety that could have been avoided if everyone had been just a little more observant of the man quietly breaking his back, they'd been torn with compunction. Everyone had been cutting corners and shirking responsibility, her self included, Bess supposed, and they were starting to understand the chain reaction they'd set into motion.

The campfire was eerily quiet as Bess studied her friends, each of them realizing what she's only just realized herself yesterday: Danziger had been picking up _everyone's_ slack.

She'd explained the facts as objectively as she could: Danziger had been physically run down and exhausted, and had been pushing himself on very little sleep. She glossed over the 'personal issues' element of the story, though she noticed several of the crew members, especially Walman and Magus, hung their heads a bit lower.

Bess had suspected that she wasn't alone in her concern for Danziger, but much like herself and Devon, the other members of the group had confessed that they had chosen to mind their own business rather than confront the prickly mechanic. They'd been loathe to incur his wrath, and were quick to point out that when John Danziger didn't want any help, well, you just left him alone.

Bess made it simple, which she supposed it was. What had happened to Danziger and True could have been avoided, sure, but by fleeing camp--no matter how rash and dangerous-- John _had_ been asking for their help. Now he was back and they could all do their part.

Bess figured she'd been a little hard on them, as it seemed she'd been standing in this Mess line for nearly five minutes, and no one had uttered a single word to her.

To be fair, no one was saying much of anything, and Bess could sense that everyone was waiting with baited breath for the Danzigers to make an appearance.

"Hey, Bess," Walman greeted her, stirring the contents of the pot.

"Hey there, Walman," she smiled, thankful for the distraction. "What's on the menu today?"

At her tongue-in-cheek inquiry the crew member's mouth quirked into a smirk.

"Watch it, Martin," he teased, filling her plate with the bland mash. "At least we have the berries you and Devon found," he commented, placing a dollop of the blue jelly atop her meager mound of Protien Paste. "I figure it could be worse."

"No doubt about that," she chuckled, retrieving a mug from a nearby crate and filling it with the bitter brew they'd all become hopelessly addicted to, once the long days and cold nights on G889 had sunk into their bones.

"So, I was wondering," Bess pondered aloud, choosing a small piece of fruit from their dwindling supplies, "if the Ops Crew will ever speak to me again." She counteracted her self-conscious statement with a joking smile.

Walman's smirk was back as he shook his head, mixing more of the ashen powder into the stew.

"Naah, Bess, they're just sore 'cause they know you're right." He looking to Cameron for confirmation as Bess stepped aside so his plate could be filled.

"No one's mad at you, Bess," the laconic engineer confirmed, glancing around the room. "Walman's right, they're just mad at themselves."

"…And Danziger," Walman added softly, with a regretful sigh.

"Well, that'll pass, man." Cameron filled his own mug, giving the Earth-Res a nod. "Soon as Danz comes strolling into this tent, we're all gonna get over ourselves, you'll see."

Bess appreciated his support but, as Cameron left in search of a free chair, she couldn't help but remind herself that John Danziger, the man who's arrival they were anticipating, didn't really exist anymore.

She supposed that dinner was bound to be a bit awkward.

Seeing her thoughtfulness, Walman cleared his throat softly, shoveling a portion of the gruel onto his own plate.

"You know, last night me and Magus were talkin' and we got to thinkin' about how John used to be, back on the stations. I think, back when Baines and him found that infected pod, with Firestein and Wentworth…that changed him. I'd never met Alex and Les. Magus, she did, once, on Spartacus, but mostly we'd just heard the stories from John. He'd known them a long time…got 'em this job, even. Baines said that Alex's memories, the one's the virus was givin' her? He said that Danziger was in almost every one."

Bess nodded sadly, wordlessly waiting as Walman took an unceremonious bite of his dinner, chewing thoughtfully.

"He's different now. Me and Mags, we'd expected Danz to be torn up after he lost them, but he seemed to just brush it off, just like that, on to the next disaster. He keeps to himself, Danziger, always has. We didn't really figure it out until we were thinkin' about how Danziger used to be, back when he was always our Crew Chief first and our friend second." He took another bite, and Bess did the same, leaning her wait against a nearby crate.

"Back on the Stations, Danz' reputation preceded him. Every Drone on that floating hunk of metal knew stuff about him: they knew he was a fair supervisor, who would fight for guys on his crew to get 'em what they deserved, they knew he wasn't above goin' out for a few drinks after a shift and pallin' around, and they knew he would be on their asses so hard he would kick 'em into next week."

Bess burst out laughing, the sound unexpectedly loud in the relative quiet of the Mess Tent. Morgan looked over from his seat at the table expectantly, gesturing for her to hurry in his usual grandiose fashion. She gave him her best _I'm talking _face and turned back to her friend.

"He doesn't seem all that different to me," Bess pointed out sarcastically, and Walman affably shook his head again, pushing his food around his plate.

"See, back then, when it came time for crew reassignments, there'd be two camps: the guys that were drawing straws to get themselves onto Danziger's crew and the guys who were trying to get _off of it_. Most of my friends, they all wanted to be there, even though we knew he would be makin' us crazy, double checkin' our work and stickin' his nose in every repair," he snorted, a memory shaking loose. "Made me take apart a damn circuit panel and start over _twice_ one time, but he was always right."

"He reminds me so much of my father, sometimes," Bess observed reverently, unconsciously closing her fist around her wildflower pendant. "Tough as nails and sturdy as a golden retriever."

"I liked workin' for John." Walman stated matter-of-factly, "because at the end of the day, he was a good guy who cared about his job and his crew. And at the end of a _shift_, you could look around the job-site and see how much everyone had accomplished, and you knew that every system was functioning perfectly. I'll tell ya, Bess, it made me proud." He shrugged, swallowing, "and that's somethin' you don't see every day. A Drone that's proud of his work."

His head shaking away, Walman chuckled at the absurdity of the thought. Bess thought it was maybe the sweetest thing she'd ever heard. She hoped with all her might that John's action's hadn't taken that feeling away from the crew.

"Here, now, it's different," he continued, his voice just shy of a whisper. "Back then, if you weren't doing what you were 'sposed to be, you heard about it. Just stop to talk, sometimes, and John would be in your face, askin' if you wanted to dance. He always made it clear that he was responsible, but you would be held _accountable_, and it always got the work done. You know, since we've been here, that's what's changed most about him. Along the way, everythin' that needed to get done got done, and Danz did a lot of it with his own two hands. He doesn't ride us like he used to, and we've all just slipped out of gear. You're right, it is our fault that this happened. We've got to stop thinkin' of ourselves as a crew and realize that we're a _team_. John's not _responsible _for us anymore. We've, all of us, gotta step up to the plate."

He chewed his lip thoughtfully, before continuing.

"I knew he was puttin' in late nights, knew it was where he went to think…I guess I just didn't know what there _was _to think about. Think I know now, though. That virus...we should have realized it had brought back Ellie Moor with the rest of it. Magus and I, we shoulda figured that out a long time ago. We should have seen it in his face."

He shook his head remorsefully, picking at his food.

"Being here on this planet has change all of us, Patrick," Bess reminded her friend gently, using his much-loathed first name as emphasis, squeezing his arm. "John said something a long time ago that always stuck with me. I hardly knew him at the time, Morgan and I had only just caught up with you all, but we were sitting at the fire and he was _already_ talking about Devon Adair," she chuckled at the memory.

"He was griping about an argument they'd had about the decision to move forward, and he said, _'We're all doing this for the first time.'_ He was right, you know. John still cares about you all, regardless of his running off, and he still wants what's best for all of us. He still treats you like his crew sometimes, just as you follow him as your leader, but you're all free men here on G889."

Walman glanced up at her, a bit startled at her words, just as Danziger slowly entered the Mess Tent, being towed along by True, who did not seem capable of letting go of his hand. Behind them entered Devon, though Bess barely caught a glimpse of her before a swarm of well wishers besieged the pair, along with a bouncing, shouting Ulysses Adair.

John looked okay, a bit tense, but being tangled up in friendly embraces had always made him antsy, to say the least. Just as soon as they'd come, the group dispersed, giving John some room to kneel dutifully and focus his attention on Uly. Keeping an eye on Danziger's proximity, Bess turned back to her friend.

"John stays up all night, and ignores the scrapes, and does things like take over your night watch, because he wants you and Magus to be happy here, as much as you can. Regardless of his personal reasons for loosing sleep, he really _did_ want to afford the two of you some precious privacy. He wants to hold the world up on his shoulders so we can take advantage of the gifts this planet have given us; a clean slate, real air and real water, the chance to find love…right now we just have to remind him that he deserves the same."

With a serious expression, Walman nodded in agreement, before pasting on a grin at the sight of the approaching mechanic and True, with Devon not far behind.

"Hey, man! Hurry up, it's gettin' cold," he teased, clapping John on the back as he reached for a plate. Danziger returned the gesture before clamping an affectionate grip on Bess' shoulder in greeting.

"Yeah, well, hot, cold…it all tastes the same when you're cookin', Walman." He grinned at his friend, unspoken understanding silently coursing between the two. "Like nothin.'"

Walman cackled, nodding at the backwards apology, and Bess sighed in relief. With he and Magus suddenly the wiser, she had no trouble believing that the rest of the Ops Team would follow suit.

"You got more lives than a synth-cat, man," the Systems Analyst ribbed as he heaped double rations onto Danziger's plate.

Bess glanced at the mechanic and discovered that his new-found grin was back, and Bess studied the two men, finally grasping that Walman knew Danziger better than she had thought.

It _had _been written all over his face. He truly looked like a new man.

John eyed the gray slop suspiciously, grimacing in disgust as he seemed to ponder Walman's statement.

Finally, he met his crewman's eyes, grinning sheepishly.

"I'm thinkin' maybe I'll settle for this one," he confessed softly, and Walman burst out with a surprised guffaw, nodding yet again as he fished beneath the counter for a new jar of the Juniper jam.

"You know, it's not such a bad life to choose," He waxed philosophical as he rummaged through the crate at his feet. Bess stole a look at Danziger, who was eying his friend quizzically, and then at Devon who was grinning form ear to ear, obviously pleased that John was at ease. "For one thing, everyone has enough space."

Finally finding what he was looking for, Walman unscrewed the top of the opaque resin jar and eagerly scooped out a healthy dollop.

"Everyone gets along, and there's always a pretty view, and sometimes when we hit the right terrain, there's even a little something to ease our sweet tooth."

With ceremonious excitement, he plopped a portion of the turquoise goo onto Danziger's rations.

John stared in shock at the quivering mass of jelly, obviously ill-equipped to appreciate Walman's metaphor. He sighed, glancing at both Devon and Bess suspiciously before turning his attention back to his right-hand man.

"What the hell is that?" He asked, almost in awe of the strange substance. Bess burst out laughing. He'd only been gone a day, but Danziger had missed so much. At least she knew once he tried it, he'd like the jam.

It would have to do until she could find him some potatoes.


	19. Chapter 19

Devon had long since finished her meager rations and two cups of chicory by the time Danziger finally pushed his plate away, still half-full.

He'd been quiet, but in good spirits amongst his friends; each one chatting as casually as they could muster, with varying degrees of success. It seemed everyone was trying their hardest to think of something to say, all the while trying to avoid saying _anything_ at all, and after a few well-wishes and inquiries in Danziger's direction, the conversation had mercifully drifted away from him. John had seemed more at ease once he was out of the limelight.

The kids had washed their plates dutifully and run off to play about an hour ago, oblivious to thef apprehension plaguing the adults. That afternoon, Morgan had bequeathed to them his vast collection of VR games, for keeps, and they were beside themselves with excitement.

He'd apparently sworn off the stuff, much to Devon's amusement and Bess' relief, and both Uly and True were on cloud nine. Devon couldn't help but smile at the strengthening bond between the two children. Uly had been devastated to discover that his best friend and his role model were in dire straights, and poor True had been through so much, terrified that she'd finally gotten to know her mother at the expense of losing her father. Bess and Morgan had swooped in with attention and distraction, and now both kids were going at it again like cats and dogs, blessedly no worse for the wear.

Despite their constant bickering, however, Devon had never been so sure of how much Uly and True needed each other.

Apparently, that was how it worked with Danzigers and Adairs.

Next to her, John made a small sound, somewhere between exasperation and exhaustion. Surveying the faces around the table, Devon regretfully realized that, despite everyone's best efforts, the haze of tension had gotten so thick that you could cut it with a laser. She could feel the taut hum of John's anxiety as the others struggled for distraction, Walman and Alonzo were doing their best to ham it up, speaking overly-loudly as they joked at each other's expense.

Devon had hoped that the strain would ease up after everyone had finally gotten a good look at John in one piece, but the wounds were still fresh, and there was too much left unspoken by all parties.

Especially Danziger.

The muscles in his bicep, pressed casually against her shoulder the overcrowded table, quivered and ticked as he attempted to banter nonchalantly. He was picking at his food, which Devon didn't like one bit, but she'd caught the tell-tale swell of nausea out of the corner of her eye, and she knew better than to harp on the importance of nutrition. She knew John was doing as much as he could.

Looping her arm through his, she gave him a little squeeze. He nearly jumped a mile, but at least his knee, which had been incessantly bouncing against her own for the last hour, finally came to a stop.

"I'm sorry," Devon whispered, lacing her fingers through his. A quick glance around the boisterous mealtime chatter assured her that no one had seen Danziger's flinch, and she smiled at Alonzo's half-successful impression of Morgan Martin, P.I. With a slight shift in her direction, John leaned in to whisper discreetly in her ear.

"S'okay," he rumbled, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm keyed up."

"I did _not_ sound like that!" Morgan bellowed, laughing in spite of himself. Danziger twitched again, sighing as he disentangled his hand from her grasp and stood, taking both his and her plates to the basin.

Devon looked after him, but sensed she should stay where she was. She knew she was walking the fine line between support and smothering, but it pained her to watch him go through this alone.

She had to tread lightly, she knew. She had to wait for him to get stronger and give him some space.

She had to, because it would only be a matter of time before she would have to tell him what she and Yale had learned.

And Devon wasn't going to loose him twice.

"The kitten's in a lefty jam, see!" Alonzo sneered comically, effecting Morgan's strange accent. Bess, to her credit, was taking it all in good stride, giggling maniacally, her flushed face beaming as she eased the sting with a peck on her husband's cheek.

"It's 'rightly' jam, first of all, Flyboy, and secondly- and I cannot reiterate enough- I didn't sound anything _like_ that!" Rolling his eyes, Morgan was greeted with a chorus of contradiction. Devon had to admit, Alonzo's imitation was rapidly improving.

"Watch the road, see?" Walman guffawed, and Magus choked on her drink, listing against his shoulder with laughter.

"I think we all know who the weak sister is in this organization!" Denner tittered with a high-pitched squeal, and the hysterical reaction of the others made it clear to Devon that this particular phrase would be with Eden Advance for quite some time.

With another quiet grunt, John appeared next to her again, a bit more composed as he sat heavily to rejoin the conversation. He winced a bit as Morgan began his screeching rebuttal, but quickly set his jaw and feigned interest.

"I sounded suave!" Morgan adamantly argued as Danziger took her hand again, and Devon smiled, pretending to be interested in the disagreement as she inwardly relished the contact. "Didn't I, Bess? Tell them I sounded suave!"

Doubled over, Bess didn't have the breath to reply, and even Danziger laughed a bit, watching her obvious glee. She looked like she might need to borrow his emergency pants, Devon mused.

"Morgan, honey, you sounded fine! It just wasn't as…entertaining for the rest of us as it was for you," she consoled him, tears of delight gleaming in her eyes.

"Traitor!" He declared dramatically, making a show of turning away.

"I found it pretty shankin' entertaining!" Baines announced, and at the sound of the outspoken crewmember's voice, John's knee was off to the races again.

Devon glanced in his direction at the startling motion, but his face was unreadable.

Danziger was apprehensive about where he stood with the crew, she knew, Devon suspected he was leery of Baines in particular. They'd had words in the past, but Devon had spoken to the Electronics Supervisor earlier, and the young man seemed to genuinely hold no grudge. She just hoped that Baines' emotions, or his testosterone, wouldn't get the better of him.

The same could be said about John, for that matter.

"Weak sister!" Cameron squeaked out again, with the intended results.

Stirring next to her, Danziger rubbed his eyes with his free hand, smiling dutifully.

"What the hell is a weak sister?" He whispered tiredly, flabbergasted, and Devon snorted.

"I'll tell you later, okay?" She asked, and he nodded wordlessly, following his friends repartee with a far away look. John was doing an admirable job of appearing calm, but she wasn't so easily fooled. His pulse was racing where his wrist was pressed against hers.

"How're you doing?" She asked softly, her concern covered by the raucous din of the group.

"Hangin' in there," he muttered softly, his tone less than convincing.

"Hey Yale, can you get us all a copy of that translation program?" Magus asked mirthfully, "I think we should adopt Morganese as the official language of G889."

"I'm in!" Alonzo agreed, "Take it on the heel and toe, Yale!" He sputtered, and the tutor shook his head in amusement.

"Yes, yes right away" He melodically chuckled, "Weak Sister Solace."

Devon burst out laughing with the rest of the group, squeezing Danziger's arm affectionately. She smiled up at him, but she could see he was lost and far from amused. He glowered a bit in irritation and she winked at him, softening the blow. He'd find it funny later, she was sure.

"Okay, so if Lonz' is the Weak Sister, and Danz is The Bruno, what does that make the rest of us?" Walman asked excitedly, looking to his cohorts for ideas.

"Bruno?" John muttered softly, his hand constricting painfully around her own at the mention of his own name. Devon knew he was losing his steam, but the group hadn't celebrated in this way in so long. They were truly enjoying themselves in a way she'd rarely seen; as energetic and carefree as they'd been the day of the water fight. She couldn't bear to break up the camaraderie.

It wasn't her place anymore.

"Well, True's the Little Soothsayer," Julia chimed in from Alonzo's lap, wrapping her arm around him possessively. He nodded in agreement, stealing a kiss. It was nice to have this time, with the children occupied, to enjoy each other's company as adults.

Soon, Devon thought, she and John would be able to share this simple pleasure. Even if the fact that he was still clutching on to her hand under the table proved the strain it had on him now.

For now, it was enough that he hadn't let go.

"Well, you're The Croaker," Morgan informed the doctor haughtily, reluctantly drawn back into the conversation. He was after all, the expert on such things.

"That doesn't sound too good, Doc," Alonzo teased, brushing his lips across her shoulder. There was a candid sparkle in his eyes as he added, "might wanna get that checked out."

Taking a deep breath, Danziger fidgeted a bit, thankfully switching his nervous tic to the other knee.

"I gotta get out of here," he whispered to Devon, as calmly as he could muster.

As she searched his eyes, trying to decipher what John needed from her, she felt a palpable shiver race up his arm, and quickly she surveyed the chaotic chitchat, looking for an opening to excuse herself, and by proxy, John. Devon caught Bess' eye, and it was instantly clear that the Earth-Res had notice John's discomfort.

"Listen here, Mister," for once unmindful and relaxed, Julia scolded her mate, adopting his accent as she pinched his cheek, "I don't want to resort to name-calling, 'Lonz, but I'll do it if I have to, see?"

"See?" Mazatl quipped dryly, from where he stood drying the pots from dinner. At the unexpected sound of a voice from behind him, Danziger's jerked, his head whipping around so quickly Devon could feel the sting of his curls on her cheek.

A flash of mortification crossed John's features as he skittishly tried to slow his breathing. Devon sensed he was perilously close to making a scene.

"Not really," he exhaled to himself, answering Mazatl's rhetorical question. Turning reluctantly back to the group Danziger hung his head, hiding beneath his hair from the startled expressions of the suddenly silent crew. Devon took hold of his elbow cautiously, but remained uncharacteristically silent.

She'd promised herself she was going to do this on John's terms, and part of that meant that she wouldn't stick her nose in at times like this. Even if he was upset, if he wanted to stay that was his prerogative, and she certainly wasn't going to add to his discomfort by mothering him in front of his friends. Devon had sworn to herself that she was through publicly chastising him, bitterly remorseful about some of the things she'd said loud enough for everyone in camp to hear, back when they'd been fighting.

She had been so out of line, so cruel…how had it all made sense at the time? She'd been through enough in the last forty-eight hours to acknowledge that she'd been acting out of cowardice. She'd been so selfish.

And yet John, who had made an art form out of bellowing until he was blue in the face, had barely spoken three words to her, publicly, in the last week.

And he may have done it over an open Gear channel, but Danziger had made it count.

"Tomorrow it might be dry enough to do some more foraging," Bess spoke up quickly, trying to deflect the awkward moment. "I'd like to collect what I can before we start traveling again."

"That'd be good, Bess," Baines, of all people, agreed calmly, obviously making an effort. "That Juniper Jam makes the Spirolina almost enjoyable."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Alonzo snorted sarcastically, "But I guess it beats starving to death."

Beneath his hair, Danziger huffed softly before standing a little too abruptly, with such force that he shifted the crate on which Devon and Yale still sat.

"I'd better get…The 'Rail still needs, um…" he stammered timidly, avoiding twelve sets of pitying eyes. Devon suddenly realized that his normal tactics for making a quick exit had lost all their power, and it appeared the others had noted this as well. Alonzo looked like he wanted to throttle himself for speaking so carelessly. Walman looked like he wanted to throttle him, too.

Magus looked like she was going to cry, and Devon's stomach lurched uneasily.

"True's probably…I should…" As they all watched John expectantly, he shook himself and threw his arms up in defeat, holding his head a bit higher.

"Aw, hell! I'm goin' to bed," he grudgingly confessed, his voice rough, making a bee-line for the exit.

Devon quickly stood to follow him, but before she so much as took a single step, Danziger paused at the exit, turning slowly to face the group.

"I'm fine, guys," he appealed softly, the sound carrying in the hushed enclosure. He studied the faces gazing up at him with a difficult smile. "I'm back now, and I'm sorry for leavin.' I'm sorry for the 'Rover, for takin' the rail…for all of it."

Devon watched as John rubbed the back of his neck, no doubt feeling awkward at being the center of attention. Eden Advance waited with baited breath for him to speak again, but his words were a long time coming.

"You all have every right to be angry 'bout what I did, I understand that. But I'm _not_ crazy." John was sure to look every person dead in the eye, to show them all how serious he was. "I just…need a little space to work this out."

Finally, he jammed his fists into his pockets, his weariness getting the better of him.

"But I'm not gonna bite, okay?" He whispered earnestly, and with a final shrug he hastily slipped through the exit.

The vacuum of the still-wet, clinging tent flaps sealing shut was enough to set off a flurry of activity in Danziger's wake.

"'Lonz, you shankin' putz! What were you thinkin'?" Walman growled, punching the pilot none-too-softly on the arm before shaking his head in disgust. Devon stood silent as every person seated around the table seemed to speak at once.

"Walman, you can't expect him to--"

"I should get my Dia-Glove--"

"Way to go, Man!"

"I didn't _mean_ anything by it--"

"Didn't anyone hear what the man just said?" Bess trumped them all, her deadly tone daring them to continue. Glaring at her companions exasperatedly, she blew a furious breath to displace a coil of hair that had fallen into her eyes. "Walman, violence never solved anything, now sit down!"

A bit stunned, and thoroughly chastised, he did just that. Devon had to stifle a laugh as Bess waited, hands on hips, until he was seated.

It looked to Devon like her services wouldn't be needed in the Mess Tent.

"Haven't we all had enough bickering to last us through the week?" Bess continued. "John understands how important it is that we all try to work past this, so why on _earth_ can't the lot of you? Honestly, you're acting more childish than Uly and True!"

With a tick of her tongue and a huff, she continued to stare down the crew as Devon made for the exit before the sparks really began to fly. As she stepped out into the clean smell of the night, she was surprised, and amused, to hear Morgan announce:

"Okay, look! It's time that everyone start acting like adults …"

With the slap of vinyl a new kind of racket greeted her. In the stillness of the cool dusk the din of human voices was replaced by the hum of insects and wildlife. Creeping from their hiding places, they seemed as unhindered by the rain as every other living thing on this planet. Every other living thing _besides_ the Advance team, Devon mentally amended with a chuckle.

Gazing up at the stars, she began her stroll to the residential section of camp, counting the individual pinpricks of light. The sound of the children hunting dragons in her own tent wafted forth as she passed within earshot and just as swiftly drifted into the distance.

The Danziger tent was set customarily further away from the rest and Devon quickly made her way into the deeper darkness. She doubted that John would be anywhere other than his sagging, fifteen by fifteen sanctuary.

The twin moons were at full ebb, but this far from the campfire the stars seemed brighter than ever.

Yale had taught her, as a girl, that the light from Proxima Centauri- the closest star to Planet Earth- took over four years to reach its night sky. From where Devon stood now, she could see hundreds of them and they looked even closer and more brilliant than any Earth-Uplink footage she'd seen.

She knew this was foolish; it was called light speed for a reason.

You never really saw starlight in space. It was nothing like the old sci-fi vids with whooshing streaks of light and cataclysmic cosmic shows. Compared to life on the surface of a planet, space was boring, to say the least.

Devon found it hard to believe she would never go back there, too close to see the stars, but she found it just as hard to believe she'd ever lived there in the first place. So much in her life had changed in such a short time, and for the better. She didn't regret a thing: not when all the close calls and arguments and dangers had brought her here, to this spot.

With a final sigh, she took one last glance at the vast expanse in which she'd spent most of her life.

Devon smiled and continued onward through the wind and the chill and the life that teemed on G889, to the man who had become her home.

As she drew closer, she studied his silhouette, defused in the soft glow a luma-cone. It didn't surprise her to see him pacing, but she was relieved to see his tired body slowly reviving itself with the fidgety energy that she found so endearing.

Long before she'd been consciously _looking_ for him, Danziger had always managed to catch Devon's eye. His fingers were always moving, poking, tinkering or picking at something, whether they were tangled in a jumble of circuitry or absently weaving braids into his daughter's hair. When they were unoccupied, and he hadn't plugged them into his pockets to recharge, his fingers would worry the air like a concert pianist practicing a piece. With a wistful feeling, Devon remembered the way his thumb had traced secret messages on the back of her hand, all the hours he'd sat with her after she'd been revived.

She finally understood what his hands had been trying to tell her.

The _first_ thing she'd noticed about John Danziger, back on the Roanoke, had been, of course, the hair. She'd been focused entirely on Blalock, but suddenly glanced down to see that a veritable giant had snuck up to the panel to her left, and was quickly and silently removing the monitor unit.

Though she was loath to admit it until this moment, when Danziger finally disentangled the communications unit and turned to look up at her, she'd noticed his slate blue eyes even before she noticed the bomb.

It wasn't until he'd been griping to O'Neill about hazard pay that she'd noticed the shirt.

Devon grinned, slowing to a stop about ten feet from the Danziger residence, realizing that by the time she'd seen the polka-dots it was probably already too late.

She watched John shake his head like a dog through the cocoon of the tent, scrubbing his face before scrabbling to pull his flannel undershirt over his shoulders. Tossing it unceremoniously onto his crate, he stretched stretch his massive shoulders, and Devon felt a pang of voyeuristic guilt.

He was so broad he just about took her breath away, and she knew from limited experience how safe it felt to be wrapped in those strong arms, to be shrouded in unconditional safety and security. Devon had always been careful not over indulge in those rare occasions when she gave into weakness or vulnerability enough and accepted John's comfort.

His gentleness always turned her around, always inevitably shifted to become something volatile, something more than affection. Every time Danziger pulled her close to him, Devon found herself a little less satisfied. It had always scared her to acknowledge that she wanted more, wanted him closer still, until with every flutter of fingers on the small of her back or the nape of her neck she could practically feel him branding her, claiming her. It terrified her and thrilled her, in equal parts, to realize now that he hadn't been trying to bully her or smother her all these months at all.

His physical presence had always had a palpable effect on her, and John knew this as well as she. Devon recognized now that a squeeze on the arm or a pat on the knee was John's only way to remind her he wasn't some towering ogre.

Watching him sink to his bedroll, his face in his hands, Devon realized how cramped he looked, much to big for his bunk. She would be lying to herself if she were to say that Danziger's size and strength had never intimidated her. There had been times he'd downright frightened her, and she was sure there were times when that had been John's intention. He was only human, and she'd always pushed further than she'd known was fair.

Now more than ever she realized that John's friendly handshakes and claps on the shoulder, the way he emboldened everyone in camp with sturdy hands and a strong back, were his only means of conveying what he'd finally confessed to the group that evening.

He didn't mean to hurt them, no matter how high he towered or how loud he barked. He simply was who he was, a man working his way through life, reminding them when they forgot that true strength could be found in the softest of touches. Too proud to allow himself the same gift of safety in another's arms.

Danziger wasn't just a hired hand or a first-class pain in the ass, or even a companion. He was a man, and whether Devon wanted to throttle him or ravish him- depending on the day- she'd never once forgotten that fact. He oozed testosterone, smelled like sweat and axle grease, and his voice was deadly. The way he could growl her last name had undoubtedly made every argument they'd ever had worth it, and when the emotion crept in and he spoke softly, she could _hear_ how much he loved her, as though the longing was causing him pain.

Sometimes she'd sneak up on him, buried underneath one of his charges, tinkering and cursing and spitting away. He could propel himself out from underneath a vehicle so gracefully that Devon would swear he'd moved the Dunerail instead, watching the muscles of his back and arms move him through a fluid ballet of metal and circuitry.

Danziger grunted, and groaned, and sniffed and _adjusted_ himself more than any primate she'd ever seen at the Station Zoo, and God help her but she'd started to actually find his caveman routine endearing! Ulysses had even begun hitching his pants when he bent to examine something interesting on the ground, and the sight of it made John giggle like a little girl until both parents were equally red-faced.

John was a wonderful father to True, and looked after Uly with the same blunt affection he showed his daughter, but Devon had realized early on-- with a face full of water, courtesy of Danziger-- that his relationship with Uly had been just as important for the man as it was for the boy.

With True, John was doting, overprotective and harried- not necessarily without good reason. True had given them all their fair share of frights, but Devon wouldn't trade the girl's precocious streak for all the Morganite on the planet and she suspected John felt the same way. With True, he would always be a daddy, but sometimes-- when she'd watch him hitch his pants to see Uly's latest insect or spin her son in circles until they both toppled to the grass-- Danziger became a child again.

As eager and unselfconscious as a nine year old boy learning how to run, giggling away.

John's high-pitched chuckle, which happened only when something truly funny snuck up on him, made Devon positively euphoric. Once she'd fallen flat on her face in the snow and, before he rushed over to help her up, it snuck out. She'd wanted to be pissed. She'd been exhausted and hungry and the cold wouldn't let up. But just like that she'd broken through his worried reverie, and his grin made her weak in the knees.

Inside the tent, Danziger leapt up again and, unaware of his observer, began fishing around in his crate. He was so far crammed into the corner of the tent that Devon could actually see his head stretching the textile of the tent, and he was poised like a lion with the toes of one foot wiggling wildly. With a grunt and a heaving sigh of satisfaction he found the item in question and launched himself oafishly back into bed. She covered her mouth to squelch a laugh, too amused to feel guilty for spying.

With a mutter, he held a Hypo-Gun to his jugular and administered something Julia had prescribed for his feelings of anxiety. Just like that, Devon's girlish flight of fancy crash landed back on G889, and as if to confirm this reality check, Danziger flopped back onto his pillow with another groan, throwing his tree-limb forearm roughly over his eyes.

Devon knew how hard he tried.

He wasn't all bad habits and bad temper…in fact, she doubted he realized it, and she certainly wouldn't be foolish enough to tell him, but John Danziger was actually quite a gentleman. He was surly, sure, but not without minding his manners. He was a boo-boo kissing father jammed in a body that could crush just as easily as it could caress. He was covered in stubble and rough edges, full of piss and vinegar and resigned to a life of scaring people away.

Devon knew John well enough now to see past the barbs and booby traps. Along the journey, for all his standoffishness, she'd fallen in love with him anyway.

She'd seen him cradle his daughter in those arms countless times; she'd seen him show as much compassion to an ailing Elizabeth and Franklin Bennett as he'd show to a member of his crew. Danziger had walked miles with her son on his shoulders, he'd taught Julia to whistle and Bess self-respect. He'd taught Morgan how to take a joke.

He'd gazed down at her on a beach in the moonlight and gave her the faith to keep going.

When they'd crashed on this planet, the life Devon had known was shattered. All these months, she'd been searching for the pieces, the things that made her who she was: her son's health, the syndrome children, the promise of a colony at New Pacifica. John was always right beside her, pushing and shoving her in the right direction when she careened off-course. She'd resented him for not helping her to find what she'd lost, for forcing her to change.

It wasn't until this very moment that Devon finally understood what John Danziger had truly done for her. Across miles and miles of terrain, though the heat and long nights and finally the rain, he'd had been doing what he did best. Diligently, and with great precision, John had tinkered away until he'd put her back together again. All her pieces were still there, but he'd arranged them just so--with nimble fingers and delicate hands-- filling in the blanks with pieces of himself until she was better than new.

Until she was truly whole.

She wanted to be the one to repay him such a favor. Taking a deep breath, Devon steeled herself, cementing the image of his reposing silhouette to her memory. She willed herself to be solid enough, sure enough…strong enough to prove to him that _she_ was the place where he could feel safe.

She never wanted him to doubt that again.

Danziger's head jerked slightly, and Devon could tell by the tectonic shift of his shoulders the moment that he realized she was there. He sat up straighter in his dwarfed cot, looming large once again.

Devon felt a flush of nerves as she crossed the rest of the distance the entrance, smiling to herself in the darkness at how much more crowded the bedroll would be with both of them in it.


	20. Chapter 20

"Stand down, Gargamore!"

True was getting majorly sick of this game.

"Why do I always have to be the dragon, Uly?" She roared, the voice-synth warping her intonation until she sounded huge, which she was hoping might give her an advantage.

"True, stop interrupting the game!" Her cohort shouted from where he sat on the ground by his bunk, the VR perspective adding 20 feet to True's height. "You wanted to be the dragon!"

"Well, duh!" She snorted, pleased to see a plume of fire menacingly snake its way in his direction. "Gargamore is way cooler than a stupid knight! But that was before I knew you got a whole army!"

"It's cause I'm a prince and I'm the _good_ guy," Uly gloated, brandishing his sword. "Besides, I always have to let you win! You shoulda known there's no way a Red Dragon could defeat--"

"You don't let me win!" True stalled for time, scanning the ranks for her best chance to plow through. "I win cause I'm way better at all of these games than you are, and I've never even played them before! You got to play them any time you wanted on the Stations and _you_ know all the tricks! You're not being fair!" He was so ridiculous sometimes. "And just cause you're the human it doesn't mean you're the good guy, Uly! For a kid who's half Terrian you're pretty stupid, sometimes. "Everyone knows only _humans_ cheat." She angrily dug her claws into her giant hips, swishing her tail violently. "Gargamore's probably got more friends than you'll ever have."

"I don't cheat! I'm just the highest Dragon Attack scorer _ever_, and when the colonist ship gets here I'm gonna have, like, two _hundred_ friends who are better at it than _you_ to play with!" Uly shouted hotly. True was starting to think he was having more fun being mean than playing the game.

He had been awfully cooperative since she'd been back, but she'd suspected all along it was only cause his mom had told him to.

"Fine then, you can just find another best friend then, can't you?!" True screeched back, stomping over a few knights as she leapt to pounce.

Seeing that his army was having no effect on Gargamore's rampage, Uly stamped his foot furiously, realizing his error. True laughed an angry, smoky dragon laugh. She was finally going to win Dragon Attack, and then she would be able to gloat that she'd beaten his high score to _two hundred _new best friends.

"No one's gonna need you or your dad anymore anyway!" Uly lashed out, backing up against the castle wall. "You should just go back to the stations!"

True wouldn't have been more startled if he'd slain her right then and there.

She could tell from his expression that Sir Ulysses instantly realized he'd gone too far, and he dropped his lance and reached up to his headset to pause the game. True didn't care about winning anymore. She ripped the Gear from her face in a rush, glaring at his seated form, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

She felt bee stung again.

Uly's words had hurt her. It felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest. They _did_ need her dad, and her, too, and the group's understanding over the past few days had proved it.

This was exactly why True would just as soon spend her time with Walman and Magus than with a whiny little spoiled kid. She'd never had many friends her own age back on the Stations and now she was glad. Kids were really mean.

Turning off his Gear, Uly timidly looked up at her, his fingers twisting in his lap like her dad's did when he was worried about something. She was so angry with him she figured he better be worried.

Not only did she save his butt from Yale all the time and always share her stuff--unlike some people and their sleds-- but she'd even shared her dad with him when Devon had been sick, and she never complained once. Even when her dad had gazed at her with tired eyes and asked if she'd let Uly take her place in his bunk.

And how could he say that about her dad? Uly looked up to him like he was a _real _knight in shining armor, or even Captain Amazing or one of the Universe League, and her dad didn't really treat him any different than he did True. Uly didn't realize how lucky he was.

Not every kid got to have two parents.

Despite her outrage, True was even more angry to feel the sting of oncoming tears tickling her nose. She hated that she'd been crying so much, and she refused to give Uly the satisfaction of knowing how much he'd upset her.

"That's not true and you know it, Ulysses Adair. You take that back!" She threatened, her voice sounding hoarse and watery.

"I'm sorry, True!" He bleated earnestly, scrabbling to his feet. He leapt onto his bunk, throwing an arm around her to squeeze tightly. "I don't ever want you to go back to the Stations, okay? I want you and your dad to stay here and by my family!"

It was kind of a nice thing to say, True supposed.

"That was really mean, Uly," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. She plucked at her braid, unsure if she should forgive him right away or not, despite that fact that he felt really guilty proved his remorse.

"I know it was! I didn't mean to…I just…I only said that because I was really lonely and scared when you guys were gone."

His soft confession wasn't exactly what True had been expecting.

She remembered his face, looking so crestfallen at being left behind as they'd driven away. At the time, she'd been hoping Uly would go running off to Devon complaining that he was left behind, and that the group would know they needed help. It figured that he'd actually listened to her father.

Even if now she realized it was only because his feelings were hurt.

"It wasn't exactly a vacation, Uly," She reminded him sardonically, still raw from the fire of his words.

"I should have told an adult," he replied, admitting his blunder. "You looked funny, like something was really wrong, but I was mad that you guys didn't want to take me with you--"

"Uly, I didn't even want to go! I was just worried about my dad. He was acting…crazy." True hated to use that word, but there was really no other way to describe they way he'd begged her to go with him, why he'd broken her Gear and stolen the 'Rail. Even though her dad had checked and rechecked all the systems and everything was in working order, True couldn't believe it when she'd heard he'd even sabotaged the _Transrover! _"He's not, though,"she hastily added. "He was just…tired."

"I know he isn't," Uly spoke in a small indignant voice, pretty much as angry at himself as True was. He sniffed, "and I'm sorry I was angry at you."

Since he was already apologizing, True figured she couldn't really get in another fight with him. Still, she didn't see any reason that he should be angry at _her_.

This kid got everything backwards.

Uly must have seen from her expression that she wasn't biting, because he looked up at her with those giant goo-goo eyes he always gave adults when he was in trouble. He looked just like he had that one time when her dad had caught him messing with the Cold-Fuse after True had _told_ him that it was off limits.

Back when Devon was in cold sleep, Uly thought he could do anything he wanted, and he was pretty much right.

Her dad had been trying to do everything at once, and he'd missed Devon a whole lot, even though he tried to hide it. He'd tried to lay down the law with Uly same as always, but all the brat needed to do was flash his pouty face and her father would totally crumble. True had to admit this was a tactic she'd used with varying successes throughout the years, but no one should get away with it _all_ the time.

Today was different, though, because today she could tell Uly actually meant it.

"I was mad you guys were having an adventure. I know it wasn't fun at all and that John really almost died out there, and that just makes me feel even worse. I was really scared, and my mom wouldn't stop crying, and Yale wouldn't tell me what was goin' on. I shouldn't have felt angry, but…it's just cause, even though John looks after me, and plays with me and even punishes me, he's not really my dad. And if you guys ever leave you won't take me with you."

He hung his head, his arm withering down to the bunk roll, and then back to his lap.

True decided to cut him some slack. It was clear that even though Uly was only a little bit younger than her, sometimes he was still a little kid.

They had about twenty arguments a day, and even though he drove her nuts they always went back to playing once they'd had a chance to simmer down. What was different this time was that True knew that this was they way it was always gonna be. There was no way she and her dad were going back to the stations.

She liked life on this planet way too much, and so did her father.

Plus, she'd seen the way he'd been looking at Devon, and it was obvious to True that they were probably all gonna become a family. The least she could do was let Uly in on the secret. But first she wanted a little more insurance.

"Well, I _think_ were probably staying," she bluffed a bit over-dramatically.

"You are?" He perked up, wiggling expectantly.

"Yeah, but let's get something straight, Uly. First thing, the next game we play I get to chose my avatar first, and you have to tell me all the rules, got it?"

Uly nodded eagerly, his eyebrows raising hopefully.

"_And_ you'd better not act all snobby when those lame Station Babies get here, either. If you wanna be my best friend then you have to commit. A man always gives his word."

"I promise, I promise!" Uly burst out, jumping up and down. "We're best friends! Besides, you're way more fun to do stuff with than all those boring little kids. They're probably gonna be scared of everything on G889 but, me and you, we're not scared."

True determined it would probably be okay not to correct him just this once, even if he did get scared almost all the time. She figured got scared, too.

But only once in a while.

"Okay, fine. We're best friends." True held out her hand to shake, and Uly eagerly complied. He seemed so happy that she found herself wanting to ease his fears. "You know, even though your mom is better, that doesn't mean my dad doesn't still want to be _your_ dad, too."

She caught a glimmer in his eye.

"Really?" Uly whispered, chewing on his lip.

"Sure. I mean, he still plays with you all the time and chews you out if your not doing what your supposta, doesn't he?"

Uly grinned, shaking his head in affirmation.

"Besides, I think that maybe I might want to borrow Devon to be my mom…sometimes," she shrugged, undermining the enormity of her confession. She leaned surreptitiously, finding it harder and harder to keep her secret. "Now that my dad's figuring everything out, we may not even _have_ to be best friends. We might even be brother and sister," she whispered conspiratorially, wondering if Uly was as clueless as he seemed.

True liked spending time together, just the four of them, playing games and telling stories. To her, it seemed obvious that Devon didn't ever want to be away from her dad anymore.

Last night, when Devon had taken Uly off to bed, True hadn't been even a little bit sleepy, and her dad said it okay for her to stay up extra late. They'd been playing cards when Devon had come back to visit, wearing her pajamas and everything.

It had been fun teaching her how to play their games, and True thought Devon had laughed more last night than she had since they'd landed. Her dad seemed pretty okay, too. He wasn't rubbing his head or wincing, and he'd been so distracted that he hadn't once stopped to give True one of the unexpected, heartbreakingly desperate daddy hugs she'd found herself swept up in so often since they'd gotten back to camp. He did really seem to be getting better.

There were other things, too, that would take a while for True to get used to.

Devon and her dad hadn't disagreed _once_. Her dad seemed to let everything slide, even when normally he'd be grousing up a storm. Weirder still, he seemed unable to keep his hands from holding Devon's, or brushing her shoulder or her knee.

Devon had stayed wth them in their tent long after her dad had drifted to sleep. She'd even still been there, on the cot across the tent, when True had finally fallen asleep against the tide of her father's breath.

Despite the fact that True had been relieved to wake and find Devon had slept in her own tent, she decided it wouldn't have been so awful if she'd stayed.

"Whoa…you think?" He asked, clearly floored.

Yup, he was still a little kid.

"Don't you see the way they look at each other now? It's obvious that your mom is smitten with my dad," sometimes Bess' expressions just worked the best, "and my dad even…when we met up with Devon and Bess, back in the Dunerail, my dad even told Devon he _loved_ her. For real."

True figured that was enough information. She definitely didn't want to explain the birds and the bees to Ulysses Adair.

In fact, from the look on her dad's face when he'd thought she wasn't paying attention and stole a kiss from Devon this morning, she wasn't entirely sure she understood them herself.

And she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to.

"He did? Nobody tells me anything!" Uly squealed, and True shook her head at him good naturedly.

"Uly, people tell you everything," she reminded him. "You're Devon's kid. Even the Terrians tell you stuff."

"Well if they're gonna get married, maybe we can get our own tent!" He jumped off the cot, jamming his Gear into his pocket. "Let's go ask them," he bubbled, and True rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the arm, stoically laying down the law.

"Are you crazy? This is one of those private adult things, Uly. I wasn't even supposta hear it, probably. Besides no one's getting married." She figured she should probably nip that one in the bud. "People don't just get married because they love each other, you know. My dad was never married to my mom."

"He wasn't?" Uly asked, shyly curious. True knew her friends in Eden Advance didn't really know anything about her mom, but now that her dad had made peace with himself, she figured that was gonna change.

"Nope," she continued. "He proposed to her, though. It didn't matter, he still loved her a whole lot."

True sighed, wondering where he father was now. Was he still at dinner with the others or was he somewhere alone with Devon, stealing more kisses?

"Do you think he loves my mom as much as he loved her?"

Uly's shy question interrupted her nagging introspection. His eyes downcast, he tugged at a loose thread on his bedroll, wrapping the end tightly around his finger. True figured it would take Uly a little more getting used to the cold hard facts, considering he'd never had to share his mom with anyone.

She pondered his question for a moment, watching him unravel the hem of his bedroll with distractedly.

Her dad told True he loved her all the time and it was no big deal. He was even sappy sometimes, always carrying her like a little baby or stroking her hair like she was their pet Koba and not almost twelve. She'd never seen him be mushy over an adult though, except maybe Alex sometimes, but she had been like his sister.

True didn't know what Dad in Love really looked like, but she was starting to figure it out.

Finally she settled on an answer.

"I think he loves her differently," she decided, speaking in a hushed tone. Uly's fingertip was turning blue--the kind of blue that would probably always remind her of her dad's lips, those last few minutes before Julia and Alonzo found them. True swatted at his hand, irritated at the jarring memory, and he unwound the string quickly.

"I don't think it works that way with adults, that they can only ever once find the right person. I think that's what my dad finally figured out--that he can love my mom and Devon, and he doesn't have to chose. Just like even though he's not your real dad, he still loves you like you're his kid. Just like I sometimes like to think that Bess and Devon are both my mothers."

Uly was listening intently to her and was being very quiet, for once, which was a little weird. They spent so much time arguing about stuff that they didn't really ever have serious talks. It was kinda nice to be able to tell him stuff without feeling embarrassed.

"My dad felt guilty, I think. He said he promised my mother he would always love her and so he was scared to admit that he really likes your mom, too…but I told him the truth. You can't really ever have too much love."

"Hey, you two!" Bess greeted them brightly, alerting them to her presence before entering the tent with a smile. "Whatcha playing?"

"We were playing Dragon Attack," Uly informed her somewhat somberly, glancing up at True with a affectionate smile. "True was the dragon, and she defeated my _whole _army!"

True was surprised at how excitedly he relayed the outcome of their stalled game, both because he'd admitted defeat and because he seemed genuinely happy to do it.

Maybe she wasn't the only one growing up.

"Wow, that's pretty impressive, True!" Bess beamed excitedly, sitting next to her and giving her a squeeze. True loved Bess' hugs, despite the fact that when they'd first landed she'd found the Earth-Res a little clingy. Now she loved the way Bess' cuddles always made her feel better, even when she didn't think anything could. Even when she didn't even know she was feeling crummy to start with.

"I'll say it is!" Morgan exclaimed as he burst into the tent, "You wiped out the whole Round Table Republican Army with Gargamore alone?" He dropped to his knees in front of True in awe, putting both hands on her head like he wanted to suck out her brain. She laughed at his dead-serious expression. "Did you have the Incantation of Zarnon?"

His question was delivered with such reverence that True felt her heart leap at the prospect of having a trick or two that even Morgan hadn't figured out. He was a first class VR gamer, and she wondered for a moment if he was just trying to make her feel better again.

He'd gotten pretty good at it, it usually even worked, but True knew this was the real thing because his eyebrows weren't doing the twitchy thing they did when he hoped he was saying the right thing. True was starting to think that Morgan might just become one of her favorite people on this planet, though she thought she'd hold off on telling her dad that just yet.

As he liked to say, the ticker could only take so much.

"It was behind the Shield of Aragon," she whispered to him with a grin, and he planted a kiss on her forehead before leaping to his feet and brandishing his Gear at Uly dramatically.

"I challenge thee to a duel, little man!" He intoned with a deep, ridiculous voice that made True giggle. "We meet on the perimeter at dawn!"

"Morgan I thought you had sworn off VR," True teased him innocently, pulling on her boots.

"Gee, that's funny, so did I, True," Bess added with a patient smile, glancing meaningfully at her husband.

"Me, too!" Morgan agreed with an incredulous smile. "Funny you should say that, Bess, because…ha! You know, I even had _myself_ fooled for a while there," he attempted to backtrack, eyeing his wife nervously. "I can be pretty convincing… sometimes…" He trailed off, clearing his throat. Uly shook his curls with amusement. "Gotcha! See, I fooled you all! You actually thought I wanted to _play_ that thing? Nosiree. Not me, I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole!" He thrust his finger accusingly at the headset. "Never again!" he announced, crossing his arms across his chest. "Just like I said."

With a glimmer of amusement, Bess quirked a smile at her husband, giving him a wink.

"I think that if True and Uly are playing with you, maybe one round would be okay," she advised him pragmatically, and True figured it would be pretty much impossible to expect a Visor-Head like Morgan to quit VR cold turkey.

"Well, I'm not getting up at dawn to fight you, Morgan," Uly informed him with a confident swagger. "I like to get a good night's sleep before I conquer my enemies."

"Well, you aren't gonna get it tonight because we, my little cherubs, are going on an adventure!"

Morgan had a grin plastered on his face, and Uly seemed awful excited by the prospect, but just the thought of any sort of venture that didn't involve sleeping next to her dad wasn't very appealing just yet.

"What kind of adventure?" True asked softly, looking hesitantly to Bess for an explanation.

"Well, True," She began gently, taking her hands. "Morgan and I were talking about how much fun it would be to go camping!"

True wasn't sure she understood.

"But we camp out every night," she realistically reminded Bess as Morgan helped Uly gather his belongings.

"Sure we do, but just think of how peaceful it will be! We can go all the way out to the perimeter marker so it's just like our own special place, and we can sing songs and tell scary stories! Mazatl helped me make some yummy snacks to bring along and when we go to sleep, we won't even need a tent! It's such a beautiful night we can lay right out and watch the stars twinkle."

"Is my dad gonna come?" True asked, still skeptical, even though Uly was whooping for joy, making Morgan laugh as he danced around his legs elatedly.

With a understanding smile, Bess rubbed her arm tenderly, leaning a bit closer so that only True could hear.

"I'm sure your father would love to join us, but I think that it might be best if he gets some private time tonight. He seemed a bit tuckered out when he left dinner, Honey, and I thought maybe we could stay out of his hair for a bit. Why don't we let him have some quiet, and then tomorrow morning we can tell him all about it. What do you say?"

True wanted to say it sounded like a crummy idea, and that she didn't want to leave her dad all alone for so long. What if he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep or needed someone to run for Julia? She also wanted to tell Bess that her dad's True-Girl didn't count, and he would never think _she_ was in his way. Ever.

The trouble was, that was the old True. The kid who'd been bratty sometimes and didn't even want to share a tent with her dad, never mind a bunk. The same girl that had shied away from Bess' arms back when that pollen had been messing with her dad's insides and who had broken the code on her wristlock to run away with a murderer.

That True was behind far behind her now. In fact, it seemed like another lifetime since she'd been trying so hard to be so miserable. It made her feel even more like her dad, to think of it that way, and she smiled. Both she and her dad had learned a lot out there under that tree. Her dad had learned that he wasn't alone, and True had convinced him that he didn't need to be.

Examining Bess' patient expression, True suddenly realized what the woman was hesitant to say: her dad didn't really need some time to himself, but rather he needed some time _for_ himself. If Morgan and Bess were with her and Uly all night…

She wasn't sure if she liked it, but True realized it was time for her to give her dad a little wiggle room just like everyone else.

"As long as Devon's with him, so he won't be alone," she softly consented, showing Bess she understood.

"You're such a good girl, True Danziger," Bess whispered, pulling True into a hug, just as Uly practically jumped into her lap.

"True, Bess already packed stuff for you! C'mon, we're gonna play Luma-Light hide and seek! Morgan and I are a team!"

"Whadya you say, True?" Morgan asked, resting a friendly hand on her shoulder encouragingly, meeting Bess' gaze not-so-subtly. "Girls against boys?"

True felt a smile creeping on, and this time she didn't fight it.

"I think you two don't stand a chance," she gloated, looking to Bess for confirmation.

"Not even a little bit," the Earth-Res teased, ruffling Uly's hair before taking True's hand to tug her up from the bunk.

"This is going to be great!" Morgan assured them as he held back the flap, ushering them out of the tent. "Hey True, do you think you could tell us that story your dad made up? The one about the body parts and the haunted ship and the, um, other things that are so scary that I've obviously blocked them out?"

Shaking her head in mock exasperation, feeling like Bess must feel _all_ the time, True cast one final thought to her dad. She had a curious suspicion that he would be feeling much better in the morning.

"Martin, I hope you brought an extra set of clean pants," she playfully threatened Morgan with pure Danziger bluster, "cause I'm gonna scare that pair right offa you."

As she marched with a confident strut behind Bess and Uly, True grinned at his animated reply.

"I did, I brought clean pants!" He informed her proudly before hesitantly adding, "um, I only brought one pair of underwear, however. Is that gonna be a problem?"


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Hello all! Don't freak out, but be warned thar be monsters up ahead. Sexy monsters. Fear not, I aired on the side of tact, but this chapter is decidedly more adult in nature and therefore would be rated TV-14, had they not axed The Precious before D&D had a chance to get up close and personal. We're nearing the end-- final chapter to follow!

* * *

"Knock, knock."

Without waiting for a response, Devon slowly eased her way into the sepia glow of John's tent. Seeing him sitting there, in the flesh, was like watching Uly paint in one of his holo-books. From the outlines, the pictures were complete and easily recognizable, just as there was no way she could ever see the profile of John's strong face and mistake him for anyone else. While her son filled in the lines with colors and shading, the pictures took on a life of their own. Standing there before John, she saw him complete.

She took one look at the Dandelion curls brushing his Raw Sienna shoulders, and those Cornflower Blue eyes gazing up at her, and she found herself utterly speechless.

John's mouth curled into a tense smile and she could see that despite, the contents of the hypo-spray, his shoulders were still bunched and drawn. Devon struggled to regain control of herself before he realized she was ogling him like a school girl, wondering just when the hell she'd become a hopeless romantic.

This wasn't what she'd come here to do.

"I know it's still early, but just seein' everyone at dinner…it was a lot for me." He frowned at himself, with a small growl of displeasure. He bent stiffly to unlace his boots, breaking the eye contact, and Devon finally shook herself loose of his spell. "I'm thinkin' I might turn in."

She couldn't stand to see John so shaken, and found herself hesitant to approach him.

This was one of those times, she knew, when John wasn't capable of asking for what he needed. She'd seen him this way before. Over Gear, telling her that his hands were going numb. Lying to True at the Bio-Dome, when he told her to go back to bed and that they'd talk about her mother later. Moving slowly, irrationally cautious, she sat gingerly next to him on his cot. She wasn't looking the other way, this time, and it was high time she was a little less respectful of his privacy.

"If you're worried about the Koba," John murmured in an attempt at levity, "he's under the laundry basket." He looked like he was going to jump out of his own skin, breathing slowly and evenly and he tugged at the knots.

"It's not Dagger I'm concerned about, John." His hands stopped abruptly. "We all think of him as a pet, you know." She sensed that to get a little she was going to have to give something in return. "We know True loves him too much for you to make her give him up."

She could see from the quirk in his cheek that he'd thought the pet, or at least his actual _name, _was a father/daughter secret. Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around him lightly, pressing her lips to his chin. He jumped a bit, but she could feel his smile when he unexpectedly leaned up to brush his lips tentatively against her own.

The air was electric.

"Busted, huh?" He whispered, timidly pulling away.

He returned to his boots with renewed vigor. Devon wanted to scream, pull him back for more, but instead she gave him his distance, following his lead as she sat up again.

"Busted, you big softy," She teased, resting a hand on his back, testing the waters.

He didn't stir.

"Had a dog named Dagger when I was a kid. That bastard bit anythin' that moved. Damn defective syth-mutts."

Laughter flowed forth so easily from Devon, filling her with a rush of contentment she wasn't sure she'd ever experienced before. She felt this way just to have John back, to have his love. How could that be enough?

Roughly tugging on his right boot, he laughed right along with her.

"He saved my ass once or twice, though," he confessed.

"Probably not nearly as much as he chewed it," she replied dryly.

There it was: the maniacal chuckle, bubbling out of him as he eased his foot out of his left boot. Devon's heart was racing as she grinned along with him. Shaking his head, John tied the boots together by the laces.

"Got that right, Adair," he growled in a appreciation before calling out, "Boots!" and tossing them across the tent, where they landed next to the laundry.

It appeared Danziger and Dagger had a system.

"I love you, John!" Devon blurted out, staring desperately at the back of his head. It was as ill-planned and clumsy as Danziger's own declaration, but suddenly she found it couldn't wait another second- even taking off his boots he amazed her. "So much."

Since he'd been rescued, watching him with True, Devon had been cast in the light of a hundred tiny shards of the man Danziger had hidden from them all for so long. When she thought about all she'd learned about John these past two days, the light of him was so beautiful stung her eyes.

He was an astonishing man.

What she'd thought of as the microcosm of a life that John had built for his daughter proved to be of the quadrant, sure, but full of culture and history and life in a way that seemed impossible for someone of his upbringing.

Over the years, Danziger had invented dozens of games to occupy his daughter, and both father and daughter had their own set of distinctly detailed rules for each. Last night they'd had taught her "Take 'Em To The Cleaners," a twisted and utterly Danziger invention in which each player had a full deck hidden on their person and, throughout the course of a rummy-like game, tried to successfully cheat without getting caught. John had worked math into the game, and while Devon shuddered to think that counting cards was a life skill, it was clear by the girl's quick addition that this was one game he didn't have to _let_ True win.

"I'm sorry I haven't said it before now, but it's been true for so long," she continued reverently, her mind brimming with reverent memories.

Devon's recent days with the pair had revealed scattered pieces of their pasts. She learned that John has taught True to read using the only three printed books he had- his grandmother's old earth cookbook, a thermonuclear temp-control unit installation manual and an old copy of _Oliver Twist_.

He knew all the lines from Cassablanca, he knew most of the lines from _Hamlet, _and he stole most of his ghost stories from old horror vids and writers named Edgar Allan Poe and Stephen King. He'd taught himself to braid True's hair using coolant wires, and he'd taught True to do it herself using his own. He didn't own a mirror and he could burp the alphabet.

"And I'm learning every second how much more there is to love," Devon bubbled unevenly, still talking to his back, amazed at the depth of her emotions.

Danziger was smitten with music and he'd begun singing again to True, much to the little girl's delight. All the tuneless hums and whistles Devon had heard emanating from the vehicle pit all these months found words, became lullabies and celebratory jigs.

He'd sung to her, she'd learned. In the wee small hours of the morning, in the dim blue glow of a Venus Class Air Ship.

Last night, True had solemnly disclosed this revelation across the miniscule expanse between Danziger's bunk, where she was curled, and her own, where Devon was perched.

John's raspy melodies had succeeded in singing both father and daughter to sleep, and Devon had been trying to pull herself away, intently calmed by the sound of his deep breathing. It was only then she discovered only that True was wide awake,and equally reassued by his snores. The little girl had confessed to following John one night, scared and confused, troubled by his distance and by the fact that he'd been wandering off by himself. In the silence of the cool evening, True had warbled the tune she'd overheard him singing.

"…_Ruby lips above the water blowin' bubbles soft and fine, but alas, I was no swimmer  
so I lost my Clementine…"_

Devon stroked the back of John's neck, soothing the strained muscles with care. She wished he'd turn to face her.

"We're both here, John. We're both alive…and I'm not gonna take that for granted anymore."

Reaching forward, she moved to take his arm, but instead found him barreling upwards into her lap, throwing his arms around her waist. He leaned up to her, touching her face, searching her eyes for the truth.

Devon could actually see the moment when he found it.

"Dev," he whispered.

The seconds raced by.

Painfully slowly, he surrendered to the upward gravitational pull, his mouth catching the hollow of her throat, her chin and finally her lips. She could hear the longing in his breath, sense it in the way he would pull himself away, dipping in to taste her mouth but frightened at the same time. Devon barely moved a muscle as his lips brushed across her face like a butterfly, hovering over her chin, brushing across her cheek, the bridge of her nose, her eyelids.

It was too much- and not nearly enough- for both of them.

Unheeded, her hands found his back, hoisting him closer. Without breaking contact, John slipped off the bunk and on to his knees before her, and the next time his mouth raced past hers she caught his full lower lip, nipping until he gently lapped his tongue across her teeth, demanding entry.

Devon lost herself in him, wondering how long it had been since he'd let himself go and taken comfort in another's arms. She hated knowing that _surrender_ is how John had thought of it before now. The fear of entering into a relationship with her didn't stem from sex, or loss of control or lack of emotion. For John, it had been about self-preservation and about penance being wrongfully served.

His busy hands were everywhere, tracing her clavicle and stroking her cheek, making a map of her. Learning her like braille. Then he opened his eyes, and she could see the change in him. She was looking at a glimmer the person he'd been before he'd met and loved and lost Eleanor Moor.

"God, Devon…" He murmured, kissing her hair-line, her temple, the shell of her ear.

There had been no one else, Devon realized, her hands tracing lazy circles on his bare shoulders. She wasn't naive enough to think that he'd he'd spent all these yearrs in celibacy, but Ellie had been the first and only woman he'd ever held with complete vulnerability, and would always be. But Devon knew in her heart, despite the dark secret she was harboring from him, that she herself would be the last.

John was raising Eleanor's daughter, and Devon had a son. Uly had been premeditated and scheduled just like every other facet of her life. She chose the date of conception and labor, spent nine months orchestrating and renovating and picking out little outfits he would outgrow in the NICU before he'd ever came home.

True had been an accident, unknown to her father and possibly her mother. She was unplanned for, _unasked_ for, but was conceived with a kind of love that Devon had never experienced in her life until now. She'd saved her father's life in every sense of the word, and she always be there to remind him of Ellie's love. Now Devon would be there to help him love again.

But first she knew what had to be done.

"Wait. I can't do this," she gasped, attempting to speak around his searching lips. "We have to talk, John…I have to…" he pulled away, gasping, his fingers worrying her jaw.

The anguish in her own expression reflected back at her through Danziger's features, and he pressed his forehead against hers, trembling and bewildered.

"I'm sorry if I…Devon, I didn't mean to--"

Winding her fingers into his hair, she harshly pulled him in close, squeezing him for all he was worth.

"No, John. It's not this…I love this. I love you close." She whispered, pulling him up from the ground and back onto the bunk. He clutched back, as though she was the one who needed it. She supposed she was.

"Okay, shhh…It's all right, Devon," he purred into her ear, tugging her closer until she was her back was to his chest and his arms were solidly surrounding her. It was almost her undoing, the suggestion of safety when she knew they were headed for dangerous ground. She couldn't accept this from him, this intimacy, until it was freely given.

"You don't own me any apologies, John," she whispered tearfully, pressing her face to the pulse at his throat.

"Okay, then, I'm not sorry," he teased gently. He stroked her cheek the way she'd seen him sooth his distraught daughter as the dust settled in their escape pod over a year ago. The memory only made her cry harder. "Hey, what's goin' on? Talk to me, Dev."

Extricating herself from the shelter of John's embrace, she studied his concerned expression, wanting to take him into her arms and kiss him until the worry lines had vanished again. Reaching a tentative hand to his forehead, Devon smoothed his hair from his eyes. She knew she couldn't ask anything more of him until he knew the truth and yet she couldn't bear to let him go, either. Hanging her head, studying his long fingers interwoven with hers, she searched for a way to begin.

"There's something I need to tell you, John. I thought I could wait until…I don't want to upset you, but I…" Devon paused, distracted by his thumb, tracing familiar patterns over the back of her hand.

"You can trust me, you know." John's soft voice rumbled encouragingly, though she could detect a hint of apprehension he couldn't hide. The small part of Devon, the cowardly part that shook her resolve, screamed that she was ruining everything. That there was no way to fix what had happened to Eleanor Moor; that she was a fool to drive him away from her again. The rational part of her begged her to reconsider, to wait until he was stronger.

"Devon," he fervently insisted again. Despite his tender fingers on her face, persuading her to meet his gaze, Devon found she couldn't make it past his chin.

Not if she wanted to keep her nerve.

"Please, don't," she begged, and instantly John's hand dropped his back into his lap. She could hear him breathing evenly, trying to calm her by osmosis, and no doubt himself as well.

His hands had fallen completely still.

"Devon, say somethin.' Please," he pleaded ardently, his own voice shaking. It was this fresh pain the finally spurred her onward.

"I'm so sorry for everything you've lost, John. There aren't words to tell you how …remorseful I am some of the choices I've made. You've taught me so much about what's important in life; you've opened my eyes in ways I never could have imagined."

With a tangle of digits Devon turned the tables, opting to hold one of Danziger's oversized hands in both of hers. She drew her own design over his bruised knuckles.

"But I was…blind for so long. I was fixated on my career, I didn't stop to think about anything…any_one_ else. And then Uly was so sick…"

Bolstering her nerve, Devon's eyes crept up the past the peaks and plains of John's torso, past the stubble on his gaunt cheek and up to his expressive eyes, where a maelstrom of questions churned. He looked almost crestfallen, like a convict awaiting a sentence, and she knew that her hesitance was doing nothing to ease his fear.

"I need to tell you that I bullied Yale into opening your sealed records," she plowed onward before he could interrupt. "It was wrong of me to do, I know that. But in doing so, I…I found that…God, John, I'm so sorry for what happened to Ellie," Danziger startled at the sound of her name coming from Devon's mouth, clearly unprepared for such a turn. "I'm so sorry that I _let_ it happen, because I know now. All this time I've been the one responsible," she faltered. "I-I can't tell you…"

John looked as though she'd cut him to the quick, totally shaken. He pulled their entwined hands reflexively against his stomach, as though he'd suffered a wound, and she could feel the muscles trembling. Devon watched the emotional pain flash across his face. His expression was so agonized that she wouldn't have been surprised to feel blood flowing where her hand was pressed to his abdomen.

Terrified that he would pull away from her and leave her alone again with her shame, Devon took his face in both of her hands, steadying him.

"I can't tell you how much I regret that, John," she got out, before her throat slammed shut with a sob. He looked down at his lap, his eyes closed and his expression unreadable, though he didn't shake himself free of her grasp. Her fingers crept up into his hair, cradling him desperately.

"Dev, don't," he whispered, barely audible. "Don't do this, please."

With her pulse against his throat she felt him swallow hard, choking a bit as his jaw clenched spasmodically. Devon herself was almost overwhelmed.

Words had failed her, but words were meaningless. No language could never express what she was feeling; how badly she needed forgiveness- not for herself, but for John. She could never articulate how badly she wanted him to find peace, to be able to let go.

"How could you stand it, John?" She whispered keenly, leaning forward to plant her lips on the crown of his head, her hands unconsciously kneading his hairline fretfully. "How were you capable of everything you've done for me? You saved my _son_, Danziger," she used his last name forcefully, insistently. "You've given me so much! You kept the group together, you pushed me forward. John, you've been my champion and my rock. You brought your child here to this dangerous place, you risked your life, and for months now I've been so selfishly _relieved_ to have you both here with me. You've lost everything you've had because of for me…and you put aside everything you believed in, all the pain you suffered just to make me feel _safe_." Again, Devon found herself overwhelmed with emotion, and she pulled him closer, tucking him under her chin. She was determined to return the favor.

Despite John's trembling, she felt him press his cheek to her heartbeat in an attempt to snuggle closer. Stroking his hair soothingly, she sniffled with a soggy chuckle. His hands crept up to grip at the fabric of her shirt like a frightened child seeking the shelter of her embrace.

"You're so much stronger than I'll ever be," she marveled. "You should hate me for the hurt I've caused you." Devon felt his lips brush across the skin at the open collar of her shirt. "But you save me instead, a thousand times over. You _love_ me, you big, relentless, stupid, beautiful man. And even if I haven't earned that love, I'm not ever letting it go, John, do you understand me?"

She caught the faintest hint of a smile as he sighed against her throat, calmed by her gentle caress.

"Yeah," he finally breathed, sitting up to wipe the tears from her cheeks sweetly. "It's hasn't been easy, Dev," he disclosed softly, smirking at the sound of his obvious understatement as he rubbed his own red-rimmed eyes.

It had the exact opposite reaction on Devon, who felt her stomach plummet. Everything she'd professed had come from her soul and John's shocked silence had alarmed her. Now that he was about to speak, about to finally unburden himself, she was even more frightened of hearing what he had to say.

This would be her test, she suspected. This would prove her resolve, to hear John speak of his past heartbreaks in the glaring light of her own culpability.

This would be her penance.

With a heavy sigh, Danziger scrubbed his face and reached for his pillow, settling back against it and pulling Devon to his side. She practically melted against him, exhausted from the emotions bombarding her mind and her heart. Resting her head against his bicep, she wrapped her warmth around him and hoped with all her might that she could grant John even a fraction of the comfort his embrace had instilled in her.

"I didn't want this job," he recounted pensively, his hand strumming her lower back like a guitar. "I didn't think I could keep my head, and I sure as hell didn't want to leave True behind to live half a decade without me in it. O'Neill made me an offer I was stupid to refuse, but I did. Told him I didn't take contracts from Adair Industries, and I told him just what I thought about the fact that he did. Thought old Broddy woulda given me a sock to the jaw, but he didn't. He just backed off…musta known bout El."

With an frustrated sigh he squeezed her tightly, softening his honesty.

"Devon, I don't hate you. Not the person who stood on that bridge and told Blalock to go screw, and certainly not to person who led that first vote. You were just a name back then," he reminded her simply, a touch of awe in his voice as they both silently contemplated all the false starts and first impressions. "God, when I think of how angry I was…at you, at the powers that be, at the universe...if there's one thing to be said about this hungry life, Adair, it's that it'll beat the anger out of you. I haven't had the energy to keep it up for so long now, it just seems foolish." He pursed his lips, choosing his words. "G889 doesn't do much for the emptiness, though."

Devon felt a hitch in his breathing, and brought a protective hand up to guard his heart, stroking the soft sprinkle of hair that covered his expansive chest.

"Back when I got that virus, every time I would close my eyes, I would see Ellie." Devon felt one of her tears careen down the track created by her cheek and Danziger's shoulder.

"I know it sounds sick, but it was worth the pain. It was worth wastin' away to be able to smell her shampoo again; to see her with her hair short like a boy's when we'd first met." The love in his voice sounded almost like music. Devon shivered to think she was bearing sole witness to his aching requiem. "All these things I thought I had forgotten, they stayed with me after Martin and his damn Grendler spit saved the day. They got me through just like Lonz' with his damn crutches."

Placing a gentle kiss on his pectoral, Devon reminded him that she was there to chase the demons away. He continued as stoically as he could muster, but his voice was raw when he found the breath to continue.

"The accident…the sight of her face, the strangled way she was wheezin' my name, the capillaries burstin' in her eyes…that never left me. There was nothin' that damn bug could find in my brain to make that day any clearer. Some nights I still wake up pantin' from tryin' to respirate, and I don't figure that'll ever go away."

From the corner of her eye, Devon could just barely make out his fluttering lashes. She could tell by his pulse that each word he uttered was painstakingly uttered. Raising a hand to his rough face, she lightly wiped at his tears with her thumb.

"But the way Ellie used to look at me sideways at our crew meetings, tryin' to make me crack, her miserable tofu pasta, the two of us sneakin' into the same dry-wash stall in our barracks…those memories were like wakin' dreams; déjà vu I couldn't shake. That's how I got through it. That horrible winter at the dome, the starvation, the night watches. Dev, it was how I got through losin' _you_." His voice broke hoarsely, his breath coming faster, swaying her against him like a life raft on choppy waters. "And then I got you back. I finally had the chance to be with you again, and I…I tried to let her go--"

"Shhh, it's okay, John," Devon tenderly placated as his words became hiccupped and strained. "Don't get upset, we're just talking."

With what she hoped was a comforting smile- somewhat nullified by her bleary, tear stained face, no doubt- she leaned up to capture his lips firmly against her own. She coerced him blissfully into deep breathing, stirring peacefulness in his heart with fluttering hands and a soft tongue.

"Just wanted to remind you that you're not alone," she teased softly, pressing her forehead to his.

"That's one way to do it," Danziger chuckled weakly when she finally pulled away, using the back of his hand to swipe at his dripping nose.

Devon was happy to see the return of the caveman.

"You okay?" She questioned softly. John seemed equal parts embarrassed and confused.

He nodded, finally deciding on a squinty smile, obviously adjusting to the sudden change between them. Devon crossed her arms across his chest and rested her chin on her hand, waiting until he'd settled a bit before tentatively pushing onward.

"What made you change your mind about Eden Advance?"

John made a small contemplative sound, his fingers absently toying with her shirt collar.

"Al Wentworth harassed me for missin' out on the chance to clear my debt. She was pretty much relentless…and you didn't get a chance to really meet her, but Alex was no joke." He rumbled a soft snicker of appreciation, and Devon felt the vibrations clear to her toes.

She knew she would always treasure these moments, this first, strange evening with Danziger at her side. Regardless of the sweet memory of John's hand on the small of her back, twirling her across a parquet floor, her heart would always think of this night as their first dance.

"Finally, O'Neill came grovlin' back sayin' I could bring True along, and my little darlin' got it in her pretty skull that it would be a great adventure."

Devon laughed a bit, with Danziger not far behind. True had had _no_ idea.

"At the end of the day I took your ridiculous job offer, Devon, because I knew El would have wanted it. She would have forced me to see what it would mean for True. I may have known what Adair Industries meant to me, Devon, but this whole time...through all of this, it couldn't stop me from fallin' in love with you anyway."

Devon listened to his words, each and every one, and for the first time in the 173 days since he'd stomped into her life she knew exactly what John Danziger was thinking.

"Thank you," she whispered, stroking the hair back from his face.

He closed his eyes, his cheek unconsciously leaning into her touch, and she could feel tremors in his taut jaw easing. It physically hurt her, knowing she'd caused this. Twelve years of torment for such a kind soul and a little girl who would grow up never knowing her mother.

She'd been wrong.

She'd been so wrong to feel entitled to have so much when others had so little, and for thinking her decisions had been for the greater good! From her optional service programs for obviously already overworked Immigrant Workers to pay off their debts faster, successful if you didn't overanalyze the jobsite fatality rates, to her misguided attempt to "save" the Syndrome children, she'd been blindly offering up solutions before she'd ever considered the problem.

And what had it gotten her?

Danziger sighed, curling onto his side to rest his forehead against her own, breathing deeply.

It had gotten her everything she'd ever wanted in this lifetime.

A healthy boy, an un-ravaged planet to call her home, and the love of a man who's presence never failed to make her heart race. The man who, even now, was begging her to understand that she somehow wasn't to blame, despite the pain she'd ignited in his heart.

"Tired," John murmured with unexpected innocence, his paw of a hand tracing up the back of her thigh before coming to rest on her hip.

While he'd almost completely recovered from his physical injuries thanks to Julia's medical wizardry, Danziger was still suffering some ill-effects of fatigue and anemia, mostly due to having neglected himself over the past few weeks. The scar on his shoulder was almost completely gone, but she knew there were still a few wounds that had yet to be healed.

"I think you're entitled," Devon humored him, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Why isn't this weird, Adair?" He asked breathily, opening his eyes to study her face. The arm supporting her head curled her closer, its fingers finding the nape of her neck.

"Because it's _right_, Danziger."

Her hushed assurance brought forth a smile so true it changed the color of his eyes.

"You seen True?" He asked, his darting out to moisten his lower lip as he succumbed to the magnetic pull of her mouth. Feeling as capricious as teenager experiencing the sparks of attraction for the first time, Devon hungrily responded. Careful to follow his lead, she trembled as he slowly stoked the embers, his grip on her hip pulsing and searching. "Dev…True?" John pulled himself away, his nose skimming the outline of her forehead like a dog jerking at his leash.

Her voice rife with affection, Devon leaned in, the hollow of his throat suddenly irresistible.

"True's slaying dragons with Uly," she assured him, her tongue finding the cool metal chain of John's dog tags. She teased the small beads against his clavicle. "She's fine."

Devon felt a shudder rip through him and, with a solid tug, his insistent hand pulled her hips against his own. The feel of him stirring against her made her want to claw at her clothes, and she reflexively dragged her fingernails along his ribcage. With a nip at the tender skin behind her ear, John tore himself away, gasping for breath. He cleared his throat with a grunted sigh of exasperation and restraint.

"She'll be lookin' for me. She doesn't let me out of her sight anymore," he ground out, his hand sliding down the back of her thigh, coaxing her leg between his own. Clearly this was just another example of Danziger's obliviousness to what his hands were actually doing, she mused, straining to catch his delicate earlobe between her teeth. Fitted so snuggly against him, the throbbing heat emanating from him intensified as she found his sweet spot. John's hands hovered at the hem of her shirt, drumming lightly against her bare skin like a pianist awaiting his cue.

"Bess and Morgan," she stole a breath, "are taking True and Uly camping tonight."

At Devon's hurried disclosure, ten fingers instantly streaked cool trails up and down her spine, skin to skin.

"Mmmm," John managed to reply. His shaking fingers fighting with the last button on Devon's blouse, tickling her stomach.

With a fluttering gasp she added, "Bess thought we could use some time to ourselves to rest."

"Mmmmmmmm," he responded a bit louder, increasing his ardor, and Devon laughed again. She smoothed her hands down his arms, skimming lightly over his spine, kneading the lengthy vee of tapered muscles at small of his back .

"Not tired anymore," Danizger growled, his palm sliding flat across her ribcage. The sheer breadth of its span, coupled with the calloused roughness, banished any lingering uncertainties in Devon's mind. She let out a mewl of contentment, drawing a hazardously sexy snicker from her lover.

About twenty provocative ways to verify John's claim flashed though Devon's mind, and with a thrill she realized making love to John wouldn't be any different than any of their other passionate exchanges, except for the fact that they would be equal parts the victor by the end of this skirmish.

Boldly answering fire, Devon Brushed her fingertips along his abdomen, feeling each set of muscles bunching as she teased downward.

"You're definitely wide awake," she purred in his ear, unzipping his fly with unpracticed fingers, though no longer abashed in the wake of his need. It was as insistent and unrelenting as her own.

"Jesus, Dev…it's been so long," he groaned, pressing his cheek to her own to steady himself. His left hand crept up to reverently cup her breast, timidly caressing the delicate flesh like a painter's first strokes on a pristine canvas. "I don't wanna mess this up," he begged raggedly, speaking more to himself than his partner.

"You couldn't," she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair as his mouth played over her chest, his tongue worshipping her. "Just make love to me, John. Everything's already perfect."

Like a man finished with his prayers, Danziger's final vestige of apprehension lifted and he shifted his weight, rolling to cover her. His gentle weight cocooned her against the sturdy bow of canvas.

In her fiery haze, consumed by the intoxicating closeness of the man she loved, Devon reeled as he effortlessly hoisted her with a palm on the small of her back. John swept her shirt to the floor, she found herself exposed to his loving gaze.

"Sure is," he drawled lovingly, pressing his lips to a birthmark on her ribcage. Devon's eyes fluttered open to find Danziger gazing up at her from beneath his strong brow, studying her intently as he went back to his exploration.

His eyes were stormy with desire, but his voice was full of love.

"I promise you, Dev," he pledged softly, finding her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. She smoothed his curls, smiling hazily at his strange declaration.

"You promise me what, John?" She indulged him, eagerly returning any and all favors.

He placed a reverent kiss on her belly, his hand possessively spanning he nearly half the circumference of her torso. His curls teased the delicate dip of her navel as John rested his cheek there, soaking up her heat like a serpent on a stone.

"Everything," he earnestly swore, breathing her deeply. "You already have it," he confirmed. Devon grinned adoringly, contented tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

"I do?" She sounded like a little girl, asking such a artless question. It embarrassed her, seeing as she'd never felt more like a _woman_, tangled up in John's hot-blooded bulk.

He looked up at her amorously, a faint twinkle in his eyes as his fingers skittered down her sides, tugging and dipping inside her waistband. Devon eyes fell shut as she gave herself over to him.

A wolfish chortle preceded John's hoarse response, his seductive tone pitched so deeply Devon could feel it more than she could hear it.

"Payment was issued upon departure," he rumbled seductively with unexpected nostalgia. Devon realized that this was just what she and John needed:

Something else to keep score of.


	22. Chapter 22

Everything was set to begin, except the Danziger's were missing again.

Well, not exactly missing, Bess corrected herself as she scanned the horizon intently. More like absent. There was no sign of the ATV approaching, but the glare of sunlight from beyond the confines of the tree's shadowy span made the outlying terrain wobble and swim unsteadily.

Not absent, either. Absent would have definite negative connotations. John and True were _late_. But they were definitely on the way.

Hopefully.

Bess turned to study the rest of Eden Advance, who were sprawled in small groups in the patches of grass that littered the ground surrounding what Bess had begun to refer as Ellie's Tree. It was a truly beautiful day, a perfect setting to pay tribute to True's mother. It was also the first really great weather since the rainstorm, which had rivaled any of the hurricanes Bess had weathered on Earth. It was fitting that this magical planet had chosen just the right way to remind them of how lucky they were to be here.

They were all on G889 for a reason, Bess had come to believe in recent days, and they were all here now- in this remote spot nearly fifty clicks in the wrong direction- not to mourn the dead, but to celebrate the lives that Eleanor Moor had touched.

John hadn't exactly thrilled about the idea, no matter how inspirationally she phrased it.

The idea had been hatched during the Martin's fabulously successful camp out with Uly and True. Seemingly out of the blue, the girl had interrupted one of Morgan's tall tales involving a band of pirates led by the great Captain Jack Blacktooth Danzigerrrrrrr, to ask a curious question.

True wanted to know how you buried someone, if their body was far from any earth.

With eerie calm, sweet, bubbly Ulysses Adair, who'd spent the first eight years of his life in the Syndrome ward, had explained to True the most common Station sanctioned means of Remains Interment/Expulsion.

Bess had looked to Morgan fretfully, hoping he'd know the thing to say, but her husband seemed at a loss.

"How could we have ever lived there?" He whispered to her, dumbstruck, and Bess left him to his revelation, steeled herself, and drew on the memory of countless funerals she'd attended for the fathers, brothers and sons lost to her community in the mines. While they had technically gone back to the earth, there had been surprisingly few bodies to mourn.

The angry, ravaged planet just seemed to swallow them up whole.

Bess had pulled True closer and optimistically explained that the purpose of a funeral, burial aside, was for the family and friends of the loved one lost to celebrate the times they had shared together.

It had sounded hopeful, until True had innocently reminded her that she'd never known her mother, and neither had pretty much anyone on this planet.

Luckily, Morgan had shaken himself from his epiphany with his diplomacy skills intact, and he quickly reminded True that even though Eden Project had never met Eleanor, she'd affected all of their lives because she had been so important to her father. He also pointed out that the most significant part of a memorial was that it provided a sense of support for the bereaved.

And when he'd put it so clearly, well, it seemed obvious it was just what John and True needed.

The sharp bark of Walman's guffaw startled Bess from her reverie, and with a sigh she carefully placed the last of the wildflowers she'd gathered at the base of the tree.

She'd been out all morning with Magus and Denner, collecting fallen samples of the surge of flora that the rain had encouraged. Cameron and Walman had found a large stone that they'd smoothed into a marker, inscribed with simply _In Loving Memory of Eleanor Moor._

She and Morgan had set off first with Uly and Yale, to discuss the few ceremonial touches the tutor felt strongly about including in the otherwise informal service. He had been hard at work on an appropriate eulogy, mindful of the celebratory nature of the afternoon and John's specific wishes.

Bess had poked and prodded, and played upon Danziger's fatherly sensibilities, but finally what had gotten John to agree to go forth with a memorial had been her assurance that it would be brief and tactful.

She'd reminded him that although they would never know the circumstances behind Ellie's inevitable demise, in a way she would live on forever in his heart. She'd impressed upon Danziger her belief that the dead watched over the living, and that it was important for True to acknowledge the guiding force she'd always seemed to feel throughout her young life, the strange, niggling thoughts and emotions that hadn't been given name or form until so recently.

She remembered John's air of confusion, the way he pondered her words carefully. Something clicked then, started making sense in his overwhelmed brain. _"I don't know if I believe that, Bess,"_ he'd told her frankly, with a hint of a sigh that showed how much he wished it were true. _"But it means something to me that you do. It means a lot."_

Finally, John had agreed to the service, but with a linch-pin condition: he wasn't going to contribute. She thought that sounded just fine, considering that True was eager to represent the Danzigers.

Bess smiled as she headed out of the shade of the giant Cottonwood, or G889 equivalent of the desert variety, and approached Julia, who was currently resting in Alonzo's lap.

Bess smirked as she caught sight of the pilot giving his beau a very non-funereal kiss.

She cleared her throat with a barely hidden chuckle, and while Julia blushed self-consciously, Alonzo grinned up at Bess in the high afternoon sun.

"It's a celebration of life, right Bess?" He joked with a dash of compunction. Julia slapped his arm playfully, much more contrite.

While Bess had accepted Danziger's terms, and had seen to it that it would be a therapeutic experience for him with or without his participation, Julia had made it clear to the Earth-Res in the Dunerail out to the site that she wasn't sure John was ready for something so public, and that she'd advised him of such.

Bess hadn't taken offence.

It had been an important step for Danziger to confide in the doctor enough to make such progress. He'd finally begun adhering to Julia's counsel, trusting her to look after his well-being when he slipped up, and Bess knew Julia only had his best interest in mind.

Still, there was no doubt in her mind that John and True would be coming over the crest of the hill any moment.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Bess smiled affably, "but I did think they'd be here by now."

She worried her bottom lip, distractedly watching Cameron and Uly play-wrestle as Walman refereed. Uly was winning.

Devon still sat base of the tree; back against the bark, opposite the make-shift shrine. The leader had been quietly contemplative all morning but, despite her introspection, also seemed certain that Danziger would benefit from this expression of closure. Devon had, in fact, been instrumental in getting John's okay in the first place.

Along with True, of course, who was thrilled at the prospect of easing her father's mind.

"I told him 13:00 hours," Julia sighed, rising to brush off the seat of her pants. "That was ten minutes ago."

The physician frowned, strangely disappointed over Danziger's lack of punctuality.

"Get me to the church on time, huh?" Alonzo teased, squeezing her arm with a questioning look.

"I also told him we were doing this with or without him," Julia revealed. "I'm not entirely sure he'll be coming."

"Excuse me?" Bess inquired softly, confused.

"I'm sorry, Bess," she spoke with heartfelt candor. "I know you only what what's best for John, but I'm not convinced this is an experience he's going to able to embrace just yet. I told him not to come if he didn't think he could. I told him that we were going to have the ceremony regardless, because it was important to the group"

The doctor sighed, glancing at the horizon herself, hand held to her brow to fend off the glare.

"But Julia, we can't--"

"I can see Danziger backing out, but he wouldn't let True miss this," the doctor contradicted herself. "Let's give them a little more time," she assured Bess. "They're coming."

"Bess, are we doing this or not? I'm broiling _alive_," Morgan groaned as he trudged over.

If Eleanor Moor had loved Danziger as fiercely as Bess suspected she did, she was obviously a very forbearing woman. Bess sent up a prayer to her spirit for such patience with her own stubborn mule.

"Here they come, here they come!" Uly cheered, and twelve heads snapped to attention.

The Danzigers' zigzagged arrival in the ATV was unexpectedly animated. John sat taking up the bulk of the seat with True in his lap, though it was obvious who was in control of the weaving vehicle.

"He let me drive the whole way!" True squealed as she screeched the vehicle to a halt, disembarking without ceremony. She evaded the crowd and ran straight for the tree, Uly bounding into step beside her.

Danziger sat rigid for a moment longer, his comical look of abject parental terror slowly melting into one of glowing pride.

Bess made it to the vehicle first, but everyone else wasn't far behind. Somehow Devon had beaten the rest of the group and she laughed, a bit winded, at John's expression. With a firm tug she heaved him out of the ATV.

"I knew you'd come," both she and Bess simultaneously declared.

"Even if your late," Bess added, playfully scolding him for the uncertainty she'd suffered.

"I couldn't find my boot," Danziger replied, tossing an arm over Devon's shoulders comfortably.

"Dagger strikes again?" She asked, looking up at him with a totally besmitten expression. John squeezed her to his side with a buffonish chuckle.

"None other. And then True cashed in her "I told you so" from when I dropped the ATV on my foot and insisted that I let her drive."

Devon looked at him, confused. Obviously that was one story from her time in cold sleep that Danziger hadn't gotten around to telling.

"I'm sorry I'm late; her word is law," he teased, kissing Devon's forehead. "I am definitely the weak sister in that organization," he confessed mordantly, reminding her that he knew just how it felt to be out of the loop.

Devon swatted at him as he reached over to poke a repentant looking Julia in the arm.

"I knew you wouldn't start without me, Doc."

Julia smirked and Bess knew that, true to form, she most likely already had the upper hand of the conversation.

"I see you're wearing your emergency pants, Danziger. Where's the fire?" She jibed, and John burst out laughing with an appreciative nod.

Bess was surprised to see he actually _was_ dressed for the occasion.

"You know me, Heller. I never go anywhere without back up."

At his sardonic claim, Alonzo extended his hand with glee.

"Hi, I don't think we've met: Alonzo Solace. I think we used to sit next to each other in Long Range Scout class," he ribbed with a chortle.

"Aww, yeah, I remember you!" John played along with glee, as Julia rolled her eyes. "But it wasn't Scout class, man, it was Worm Bullet 101."

Devon guffawed with surprising gusto, and Uly and True ran over with the unrelenting energy only children can muster. By the way that Danziger was pointing at Julia's exasperation and snickering, Bess felt sure that his inner-child was still intact, as well.

"Come, everyone!" Yale called from Ellie's Tree, full of purpose and eager to start. "Let's begin our celebration on this magnificent day!"

"Yes, please, lets! Before my bones are bleached," Morgan grumbled under his breath as the group proceeded slowly.

"Oh, Martin," Danziger mused, clapping the lawyer on the back good-naturedly, "of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the universe, huh?"

"Yeah, and not a drop to drink," Morgan groused back with a smile, hanging back with Bess as John and True took their place by the tree.

Despite the easiness with which Danziger swung his daughter's arm back and forth, whispering sweetly in her ear as they studied the engraving and flowers, Bess could feel a change in the air as the group wound down to silence.

Overtly or not, all eyes were on tow-haired pair.

"We all have our own ways of experiencing loss, and of celebrating the timeless joy brought to our lives by those who have gone before us."

Yale spoke to the group, but took care to hold John's eye.

"The great poets throughout history have written us epistles, shown light into our darkest hours by illuminating our deepest selves through their own experiences. If I may, I would like to share with you the words a late twentieth century poet. Although he lived hundreds of years before us, on a planet light years from where we stand, his words are recognizable. They are a gift I can offer to you, my friend, as a beacon against the gloom."

With a disarming smile, he turned to the rest of the group, scattering the clinging vestiges of sorrow with open arms.

Bess had always loved Yale's flair for the dramatic.

"Because the truth is not always as pretty as it's namesake," he teased, placing a hand atop True's head, "I ask that you forgive my crude language, though it pales in comparison to some of the more colorful vernacular that can be heard from the vehicle pit."

John shook his head with amusement, grateful for Yale's unorthodox proceedings. His crew was cackling like a pack of hyenas.

"_Postcard, January 22__nd_," Yale began as the fell quiet once again. Though his words bore great weight, he spoke them with great delight and hope.

"_I grew heavy through summer and autumn  
and now I bear your death. I feed her,  
bathe her, rock her, change her diapers.  
She lifts her small skull, trembling  
and tentative. She smiles, spits up, shits  
in a toilet, learns to read and multiply.  
I watch her grown, prosper, thrive.  
She is the darling of her mother's old age."_

The blunt honesty of the piece was as unsettling it was beautiful, and Bess found herself unprepared to look in John's direction, and settled instead on watching Julia's face as she smiled supportively at the pair. There were tears in the doctor's eyes, but from Julia's countenance, Bess felt sure Danziger was taking it okay.

Taking a deep breath, she diverted her glance to John, who's gaze was pinned firmly on the ground as his hands worried True's braid. His curls hid most of the emotion that played across his features, but in the harsh light of day Bess caught the sparkle of a tear as it fell from the tip of his nose.

Pressed to his side, True rubbed a sleeve across her eyes, which were likewise downcast.

"Although she never stepped foot on this New Earth, Eleanor Moor has made the journey here in the hearts and minds of her loving partner and her beautiful daughter. Though her physical being has found eternal peace, still she shares our journey. She has born silent witness to our many adventures and our missteps, and it is her memory that fuels the remarkable flame of courage that burns in you, John.

"What courtesy you have paid Eleanor, you have paid us all. You protect this group as you protect True, you guide us with both caution and fearless abandon, you love us as your family. To you we owe that great debt, and happily we offer you all our love in return."

Bess cast a small glance in her husband's direction, and was surprised to see he was grinning.

"He keeps looking over here, Bess, at least one of us shouldn't be crying," Morgan mumbled through frozen lips like a ventriloquist, and she sniffled, wrapping herself around his arm. His hand instinctively found hers and squeezed.

Morgan wasn't the only one in good spirits, she realized. Uly was downright beaming, seemingly confused my his mother's grave expression, and Walman and Baines were sporting supportive smiles as well. Julia was enveloped in Alonzo's embrace, and despite her silent tears her brow was smooth and untroubled.

And Yale was simply in his element.

"Ellie has spoken, my friends, unbeknownst to us, through the lips of the little girl who inherited her eyes and her spirit. True, you have such power inside of you. Your wisdom and maturity belie your age at times; yet you have inspired us all with your curiosity and wonder. You are not solely defined by the efforts of a kind and loving father, but by the depth of his love for your mother. It is through you that we come to know your mother's laugh, her enchantment, and it is _in_ you that we place our hopes for the future of mankind on this planet."

Yale grinned then, watching as the little girl digested his loaded words.

"And our little friends the kobas have found a champion in you," he teased.

Danziger was the first to laugh; a single, high-pitched bark that traveled on the wind to be answered simultaneously by Devon and Uly. Bound together, Eden Advance crept forward into this new endeavor, dipping their toes into vast ocean that had separated each lone traveler from one another.

Upon closer inspection, each man, woman and child was beginning to realize their self-imposed sea of differences was actually more of a puddle.

"Where we find fear and dread in the unknowns of this strange, new world you, True, find awe and promise. Despite the hardships we have endured here, despite those that we have lost along the way, you inspire us to look ahead. And that why we are gathered here today, to pay tribute to the past, so that we may continue our journey with the grace and tenacity we have learned from our time here with you, for which Eden Advance owes Eleanor Moor many thanks."

Bess hiccupped, a quiet sound that seemed to echo as the winds died down. She had thought she'd be better equipped to handle Yale's homily, but here she'd gone and worked herself into a mess of bloches and snot.

Without skipping a beat, Yale surveyed his friends, resting his steady hand on Danziger's shoulder, a smile still gracing his lips.

"John, True, I have invited your family," the tutor spoke the word with quiet strength, "to participate in our celebration. If anyone wishes to offer their thoughts or prayers, please let your voice ring out on this glorious day, so that our aspirations and reflections may be carried on the wind for Ellie to hear. It is through our friendship that she will live forever."

It was now or never, Bess thought. She doubted anyone else would be the first to look John in the face and contrive to know what he was feeling. Trouble was, Bess felt like maybe she _did _know, because Yale's sweet, buoyant confirmation had affected her more deeply than any Earth funeral ever had, despite all their somber dirges and morbid pieces of scripture.

She'd taken Morgan's words about celebration to heart, but in her mind's eye she had never truly imagined that such a heartrending occasion could inspire so much hope. Back on earth, there hadn't been much to remind the living that they were better off than the dead.

But here on G889 the sun was shining, and True Danziger was smiling, and Bess was beside herself with the promise a new life for them all.

Luckily, someone else spoke up.

"Back when we first crashed, before the Terrian's came to help me, I didn't know what to say to True. She didn't act like all the other kids I knew, she was always working with the adults and she didn't seem to like me much."

Of everyone present, Ulysses was the first to speak. It still seemed morbid, but the fact remained that he'd attended more funerals in his short life than anyone else present.

True laughed at his revelation, and John wiped his cheek, casting his first real smile of the day into stony features.

Uly spoke with such candor and poise than Bess found herself reigning in her emotions, focusing on the his words, realizing that his very presence here was a blessing.

"I always saw her with her dad, so one day when she was working on the ATV, I asked her where her mom was."

He gave John an apologetic smile that contradicted his tender age.

"I didn't think it was a _mean_ thing to ask. I just thought that she was gonna point to Magus or Eben and say, 'Her right there, that's my mom,' or 'my mom's back on the stations,'" Uly paused, choosing his words, swinging Devon's arm absently back and forth as he addressed them, "but she told me that she didn't have one, and I should mind my own business."

He giggled at the thought, as did True. Even Yale snickered in approval. John just shook his head with indulgence and affection.

"I didn't have a dad. My mom planned it that way, but I was confused, because babies have to get born, right?" As Uly addressed the congregation with innocent sincerity, Morgan rumbled with soft laughter beside her.

"It all comes back to the birds and the bees," he whispered with conspiratorial relish.

"Ya got a good point there, Uly," Baines joked, feigning ignorance, and Magus elbowed him squarely in the chest.

Which, of course, made John laugh.

"When we were staying in Mary's Garden and Dell was in everybody's dreams, I felt bad for True when she found out it wasn't really her mom. She was mad that her dad wouldn't explain it to her," Devon gave him a nudge, but John just bent to kiss True's head and looked to the boy to continue. "but I could tell how sad it made him. He looked like all the adults who would come to visit the Syndrome ward, looking in on all the sick kids."

Devon swallowed hard.

"I was scared you would get mad, True, if I told you what I thought back then," He confessed softly, looking directly at his friend, his foot scuffing clouds of dust. "But I wanted to tell you that even though he didn't like to talk about her, your dad loved your mom more than just about anyone in the world. I could tell because whenever you asked him about her, his face looked just like my mom's when the Dr. Vasquez told her that I had the Syndrome. Like he thought you might be better off not knowing what happened to her."

A strangled sob escaped Devon then, startling them all.

"I'm sorry, I'm fine," she choked out, attempting to smile. John was at her side in an instant, True's hand still firmly in his grasp as he kissed Devon's temple, ruffling Uly's hair as he pulled him in for a hug.

"You're not supposed to by crying, Mom," the boy scolded, and John hefted him up with an irreverent snort, kissing his cheek.

"Go ahead and finish, Sport," Danziger whispered hoarsely, looking Uly dead in the eye. Devon was doing her best to compose herself, and True silently offered up her dad's handkerchief to fend off the sniffles.

Here they were at Ellie's memorial, and the Danzigers and the Adairs seemed like more of a family than ever. It was more than Bess ever could have wished for them.

It was a miracle.

"True and I are best friends, we shook on it," Uly enlightened them all solemnly, but he spoke directly to John. "And best friends always tell each other the truth, and they share things, too." He beamed at his mother, who was smoothing True's hair, doting on her as Bess had rarely seen. "I just wanted to tell you, Mom, that even though True's beginning to learn about Ellie," Bess noticed John's nearly imperceptive twitch, "I'm told her your would be her mom sometimes, too."

The sound of his lost love's name coming from the mouths of Eden Advance would take some getting used to for John. Bess figured that might go double for the nine-year-old son of his _new_ love, despite how close Danziger and Uly had grown.

Devon, however, had missed his shiver completely, as she was beaming at her son with a motherly pride so intense she herself was wracked with tremors.

John passed Ulysses knowingly over to her, squinting away an errant tear as he scooped True into the crook of his arm. He brushed his fingers over her cheeks and she did the same in return, and Bess marveled at their overprotective symbiosis.

True wrapped her arms around his neck in a choke hold, whispering something in his ear that only he could hear, and he grinned.

"I…um…" Magus stuttered, sensing it was her time to offer something. "I never worked on a crew with Ellie, but I knew her. I mean, I met her once or twice, trolling around the quad with Danziger. They seemed like such a strange match…she was so tiny and graceful, walking arm and arm with this big curly haired oaf," she gestured to Danziger, and her crewmates chuckled in appreciation.

"Thanks, Mags," John rolled his eyes with amusement, his fingers toying with the belt loops on True's jumper as he rocked her gently back and forth.

"I always had my sneaking suspicion that she was too good for you," Magus continued with a teasing grin, "According to the rumors from his crew, John and Ellie fought like cats and dogs most of the time. Danziger was always…" she paused, erupting with a laugh before grabbing Walman's arm, "Oh my God, do you remember when she dyed his hair blue?"

Walman lost it, applauding at the memory with a raucous laugh, and True snuggled closer to her father as the others followed suit.

Bess thought it was so strange, the human memory. What were the odds that Magus would remember one of the very same stories that had kept John grounded while he and True had struggled to this very spot, seeking shelter?

Everything happened for a reason.

"Well, he came to work looking like a giant cartoon character, griping and moanin' and tossing his weight around at anyone who dared make fun of him- which was practically impossible not to do," Alonzo tittered a high-pitched laugh at the thought, no doubt sorry he'd missed it. "He was so damn pissed at her, and I thought to myself, whelp, there goes that love affair. But when the shift was over and we clocked out for the day, John was off and running. I remember de-boarding the freighter we were workin' on, and turning the corner just in time to see him there with Ellie, kissing her hello, not a care in the world that he looked like a comic-vid villain. Once he was with her, it was like he didn't even notice anymore. Like he couldn't see anything but her."

Magus studied Danziger for a moment, a wistful smile gracing her features as she surveyed not only the mechanic but the little girl in his arms, and the woman and child pressed so closely to his side.

"I guess I never thought I'd see that look on his face again, but here we are."

She broke off, a bit choked up, gesturing to him again, this time at his new family.

"You deserve this, Danziger. It's what's right for True, and for yourself." John nodded, his free arm reaching up to span Devon's entire back, coming up to rest securely on Uly's shoulder. "You look great in those pants, but _blue_ doesn't suit you, Boss."

Magus' earnest advice wasn't lost on the rest of the crew, who--as Walman had confided in Bess-- had witnessed Danziger's gradual slip into the loner he'd become, the frazzled father and careworn savior that had landed in an over-crowded evacuation pod on G889 over a year ago.

She may not have known John before that first night around the campfire, when he'd paced like a panther as Morgan relayed his altered version of events, but she still appreciated how far he'd come.

Bess wanted to be sure Danziger knew what a gift he'd given his daughter.

"When I first met the Danzigers, I was curious about them," she began softly, squeezing Morgan's hand as she addressed her friends, just so he would squeeze back. "I know that comes as no surprise, me being my nosey self and all, but there was something about John's laconic bluster that spoke to my heart, even though I wasn't sure what it was. I never even dreamed that when I met his little girl True, underneath the Transrover, that she'd be an even harder nut to crack."

Her boots swinging, leaving dusty streaks all over John's lucky pants, True let out a snort as her father rapped on her head experimentally, kissing the spot tenderly.

"True didn't want to be girlfriends," Bess reminded them all sarcastically. "She'd rather be working with her dad than off running with me and Uly. In fact, True didn't act like any little girl I'd ever known. She was tough and she was honest, and when she said something she meant it. She was always brave enough to apologize when she'd done something she regretted, and just like her daddy, she wasn't scared to let me know when I'd overstepped my bounds. "

Bess met her husband's eyes momentarily, brushing the hair from his eyes.

"It wasn't until Dagger's little friend stung Morgan, and True came to sit with me in the Med Tent that I realized what it was that stirred my affection." She lowered her eyes to the ground. "I was harsher than I intended to be with her, my concern for Morgan got the better of me, but True didn't cry or run away. She stayed with me for the entire day, just sat quietly and waited. I remembered how hard it was for me to visit my mother in the hospital, how scared I'd been- and how ashamed at that fear- and I realized that I hadn't just been spiteful when I'd told True that she was smart enough to learn her lessons. I was being honest, and I think that meant more to True than any games I could coax her to play or braids I could weave in her hair. True didn't want to be treated like a child, she just wanted to be respected as a person."

True snuggled her face against the hollow of her father's throat, obviously embarrassed to be paid such compliments, and Danziger wore an expression of immense gratitude. He winked at Bess fondly, reminding her of the important revelations she'd made that same day, regarding the mechanic himself.

"John came to collect her, finally. I think he was surprised to find her with me, and even at the time I thought it was odd that he refused to come into to the tent," Bess chewed her lip, remembering those harrowing days with a clarity that John himself knew far too well.

"I stood up to stretch my legs as True was going, and as she parted the tent there as John, hunched over double, peeking through the flap," she timidly met Danziger's eyes, offering up a feeble explanation for all of the meddling, and coddling, and nudging she'd put him through over the past year. "John, your face, was…my father's face. Your expression reminded me so strongly of my own- the man who'd raised me and my brothers alone from when I was no older than True- that I hadn't even been able to see it at first. All at once I _knew_. I knew that you hadn't come in after True because you couldn't bear to. I understood why Julia had to pry you away from trying to resuscitate Morgan, even when her equipment had failed."

Danziger gently lowered True to the ground, his calm front flagging a bit in the wake of Bess' quiet reflection. Although Eden Advance was silent, Bess felt flooded with energy and love, radiating up into the atmosphere, affecting the currents of the wind.

Her words weren't quite her own. Everything she'd said was the truth but it seemed impossibly simple, to hear it spoken aloud. She felt as though she was composing a charm, an incantation to ward off the pain that such truths should cause.

Or maybe her rambling little trip down memory lane was more like an exorcism.

"I didn't know who she'd been, but I knew you loved her," the sting in her eyes was back, threatening to destroy Bess' delicate balance. She glanced at John, who was staring stoically at the cottonwood while Devon stroked the nape of his neck. "In that one instant I knew you'd lost her, and how hard you'd tried to stop her from going, and that every time you looked at True you couldn't help but count the pieces of her."

Beside her, Morgan sniffed loudly, giving her a watery smile when she started at the sound. Bess laughed, handing him a pocket square, dabbing at her own eyes with her sleeve.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get so melancholy with ya'll," she chuckled, her Earth accent creeping in with the nostalgic tide.

True crossed the short distance to Bess with her usual determinedly stomping gait, and promptly threw her arms around the Earth-Res.

"You're the nicest person ever, Bess," she sighed with a strange combination of Uly's awe and Danziger's maudlin tone. "I'm sorry I didn't want to do girl stuff with you. Boy stuff just seems funner."

With a grin, Bess found herself reminded that mature or not, True was still really just a kid. A little girl who'd been raised by quite possibly the most masculine human being she'd ever met.

"I meant it when I said you were smart, True," she cooed, stroking the girl's rail-thin arm. "You're one of the smartest people I know! You could fix any of these machines just as lickety split as any crew member here, and you're the only one who can keep your dad on the straight and narrow," she teased. "You're funny, and your thoughtful, and your so strong…"

Bess was pretty sure she was going to lose it again, feeling True's gentle weight pressed so snuggly to her side. If she said any more she would completely unravel, and she was certain she'd already said more than enough.

"And you're the best card player I've met, on any planet," she added quickly, eliciting a small chuckle from under her arm. "And you have beautiful straight hair just like _I_ always wanted." This time Devon and Julia laughed in unison.

Morgan had always told her to end with a joke.

"And you are one-hundred percent correct: boy stuff is almost _always_ funner than girl stuff. There, I said it."

With a wry cackle, Yale offered up a small round of applause, and Danziger jumped a bit, glancing around as though awaking from a dream, smiling unsurely at first, and then with relief, finally meeting Bess' gaze, studying her as she embraced his daughter securely.

She gave him a small nod, reminding him that he wasn't raising True alone anymore. That anytime he stopped short, wondering where she was off to, he would always find her safe.

It was high time he found a little peace.

Disentangling himself from Devon, tapping Uly's chin with a nervous smile, John waved True to his side with the smallest gesture, leading her by the hand until they reached the bespeckled border between the glaring sun and cool shadows cast by Ellie's Tree.

With a bone deep sigh Danziger studied the marker pensively, finally turning to face his friends again. He pulled True close, fitting her in front of him like the final piece of his puzzle. His hands dwarfed the little girl's shoulders so thoroughly it seemed to Bess that she wore her father like a safely blanket.

"I, uh…I wasn't gonna talk," John sputtered quickly, glancing apprehensively at Yale and then to Bess, before settling for the ground. "I didn't know what to say," he huffed, "I still don't. But…I want to try," he trailed off, seemingly at a loss, "I think I have to."

True looked up at her father, concerned by his uncertainty, and John towered over her harmlessly, devoted as a curly-haired dragon taking audience with a princess.

"Just tell them a story, Dad," True counseled him encouragingly, her head tilted into the sunlight. With a dutiful nod, Danziger pulled the sunglasses from his pocket and slid them carefully onto her nose.

"Good idea, True-Girl," he whispered, glancing around self-consciously for a moment.

Bess saw it, the instant when inspiration struck, and it wasn't too long before John began.

"True's first word was _more_," he began quietly, his gaze planted on his daughter's head as he chose his words. "I was working freelance, mostly maintenance, whatever shifts I could get with a grabby handed nine-month old strapped to my chest."

He chuckled deeply at the thought, stroking True's hair as he looked up to meet Devon's gaze like a proud papa.

"One of the guys- hey, Walman, you remember Charlie Breakner, right?" With a grin, John watched his friend search his memory before nodding with an answering smile.

"Yeah, man! He was always struttin' around the Quadrant like a fat cat, spendin' his credits like water, I remember him!" He met Danziger's eyes with wonder, and Bess was thankful that the two men had begun to reconnect. It meant so much on this planet, the luxury of a shared history. "Damn, it's been years since I thought about Charlie!"

Danziger's expression was one of intense nostalgia, and Bess had no doubt that this tale was one of the few boons of the virus that had nearly taken his life.

She knew the courage it took for him to speak so candidly in front of the entire group, but despite his hesitance there was an earnestness in his voice that made it clear that this was something he wanted them to know about himself.

Bess glanced at Morgan, who was intently watching the man who's life he'd saved with newfound understanding and tolerance. The balmy breeze stirred the leaves of Ellie's Tree, filling John's silence, and Bess realized that the entirety of Eden Advance was hanging on his every word.

"My baby girl was a handful back then. Something's never change, I guess."

Alonzo chuckled first, then Magus, and John glanced up to catch their eyes.

"I never once regretted bringin' her to work with me, but at that age she seemed to get into everything. Sometimes I think she always new how to fix what was broke, but I was to stupid of a dad to let her try." He barked a laugh, shaking his head. Bess wished she could see the memory as clearly as John could.

"The crew, most of them groused about havin' a toddler around the site, but True brought them around. It wasn't long before they were dotin' on her, riggin' her toys and stuff like that."

At True's delighted expression, it was clear to Bess that this was as new to True as it was to the rest of the group. She gazed up at her dad in the afternoon sun, enrapt and beaming with curiosity.

"I'll tell ya, it made me proud to be a father. Havin' True made me feel like I was better than all the rest, like I knew a secret that no one else had figured out yet. I know it sounds pompous, but it's honest."

He paused, defending his claim with silent aplomb.

"She was my right hand man; she never wanted to leave my side and none of the other guys could ever distract her for very long. She didn't suffer fools gladly, True, even at that age. Sometimes it was enough to test my sanity," he gave his daughter a glare of mock exasperation and she giggled. "But mosta the time it just made me work harder, and faster, and better. Havin' here there was a constant distraction, but it was because she was there that I never _forgot_, not for one second, what I was doin.' I was givin' her a better future."

Bess had often wondered about True's education. She'd even once asked True outright about her schooling back at the Bio-Dome, but it seemed that the subject of structured learning was touchy one where all Danzigers were concerned. From what she could gather, True had never attended a formal school back in the Quadrant, where virtually nothing was free. If John himself had, it couldn't have been for more than a few years. According to what little Yale had divulged regarding his freshly hacked Bio-Stats, the Danziger family debt had been placed solely on John's shoulders at age fourteen.

Conversely, both father and daughter amazed her with their ingenuity and intelligence.

Her observation hadn't really come out right at the time and True had gotten surly, but Bess suspected that John's strange way of remembering Ellie- his living, breathing, eulogy- was comforting her now.

"So Charlie, he gave True this candy bar." Danziger closed his eyes, a Cheshire cat smirk tugging at his lips "It was a Caramel Blaster Chocolate Rocket."

"My favorite!" Uly cheered, wriggling in his mother's arms as she laughed and hugged him tighter.

Devon seemed lighter to Bess these days, like John's love had rewound her, taken back the long, lonely years of caring for a sick child alone. She looked significantly younger, and an infectious laughter had taken up residence in her heart.

"Oh my God, those were the _best_," Morgan groaned under his breath with sugar withdrawal agony. Bess took his hand tenderly, giving him a squeeze. They'd eaten the last of his candy stash on the camp out with Uly and True, and his sweet tooth had been throbbing for days.

"I gave True to Breakner just long enough for me to take a leak," Danziger continued, shaking himself loose of the memory, "and when I came back her jumper was already ruined with chocolate. It was the first real treat she'd ever had, and I was kinda pissed at him that I'd missed her eatin' it, quite frankly," he snuffed, scratching his chin.

Bess smiled at the mental image of a boisterous baby True, licking her fingers and smiling.

"So I went to pick her up, and True," he patted her shoulder, "she just looks up at me and says 'more' clear as day. Just like that she had a voice. This little person was learnin' to communicate with me, and all I could think was that right off the bat, crouchin' there with caramel all over my vest, I wasn't able to give her what she wanted."

His honest admission was sobering, and Bess peeked over at Devon to see her blotting her eyes with an echo of her infamous corporate deadpan.

"She was off the rails all day after that, kickin' and whinin' and slappin' my face from her harness, lookin' up at me with those puppy dog eyes, just sayin' 'more, more, more.' Finally I gave up and brought her home, but she wouldn't eat her dinner. She just kept pushin' the spoon away. She was as frustrated with me as I was with her."

Danziger smiled, tugging gently on his daughter's braid until True looked up at him, his sunglasses droopy on her nose.

"I never could have imagined this life for you, Baby," he surveyed his friends, meeting each person's eyes warmly. "I never in a million years thought I'd be standin' in the dirt here with any of you, or that I'd ever be a part of somethin' this special. But I'm here now because my little girl looked up at me that mornin' and asked me for more. And I swore to myself that I'd find a way to give her that."

As John's simple declaration rang out, Bess studied True's pensive expression; the way she had her whole hand wrapped around Danziger's first two fingers, his thumb stroking her cheek.

He had never reminded Bess more of her father than at this moment.

Both Arthur Klempt and John Danziger were men of few words, and both were fiercely loyal, almost to a fault. She knew that Danziger fought the same war on this planet that her father had waged back on Earth; a never-ending struggle between knowing he was the rock for so many people, and all the while loving them so much it became his greatest weakness.

Bess had seen John's strength crippled by his emotions many times. She'd seen him unable to bring himself to risk one of his own, even for the greater good and- like her father- far too willing to take the risk himself. But when the time had come for her Arthur to step up to the plate and speak up about what was important to him, about the loss of her mother or the future of the mines or their family, he had shied away from every opportunity until it was too late.

Although they were alike in many respects, that was where her father, God rest his soul, and John differed.

Despite his reservations, Danziger was taking a monumental step today. He was standing before his friends and family and acknowledging what he was thankful for, and preserving all that he'd lost in their memories.

"I made Eleanor Moor a promise the day I signed those papers sayin' I wanted to keep her in neuro-stasis. I promised her that," he stammered a bit, clearing his throat, "that I would protect her child, even though I hadn't been able to protect her."

With a heaving breath and a small shudder at the thought, Danziger pulled True closer wrapping an arm around her possessively.

"I needed her to know that her baby would be raised in love, and that I would cherish every moment enough for both of us. I promised her I would find a way to pay off our debts, that her daughter would grow up to be a free woman. I would die trying, if that's what it took, but her child wouldn't suffer the way Ellie had. I promised her I'd find a way."

He spoke with such vehemence, such passion that Bess could see the revelation on the faces of her friends. All the frustration and triumphs they had endured on G889 finally snapping into focus. Whether John had been striding along beside them or kicking and screaming in opposition, he'd always been on the front lines.

With a poignant smile, Bess turned her gaze back to the Danzigers. There was no doubt in her mind that John had kept his word.

"For six months I struggled with that promise. I had no idea how I could afford raise a kid, never mind how to actually take care of one. I wasn't sure of anything, but I knew I wanted freedom for our baby girl. God knows how much I wanted it to be true," He knelt beside his daughter, wiping her tears with his calloused fingers, smoothing her hair as he looked into her big brown eyes. "and it is."

With a huge grin, True kissed her father's cheek, squeezing him with all her might. Bess saw Devon take Uly's hand tenderly, and he wrapped himself around her waist soberly.

Likewise, everyone in the group took a minute to reach out to another, whether it be a close friend or companion. They were all blessed to be here, Bess realized as Morgan rested his head sweetly atop her own.

Even though Eden Advance had come on this journey for very different reasons, Bess felt immensely grateful that they were able to make it together.

Pulling away from her father bashfully, True scuffed her foot, fishing in her pocket as she intently studied the cloud of dust as it eddied in the breeze.

"I found something, Daddy," she confessed softly, barely loud enough to be heard. "I forgot I had it…and then I didn't want to," she trailed off, carefully depositing a small folded card into John's hand. "Anyway, I'm returning it now."

John's eyes closed for a moment as he unfolded the slip. That he knew exactly what True had given him was evident, but it wasn't until True spoke again that Bess realized what it must be.

"She was so beautiful, Dad," she whispered, reaching out to brush Danziger's hair away from his face, scrutinizing his expression.

"Yeah, she was, True-Girl. Just like you," John reminded her, quelling her fears with adoring eyes. John took a moment to study the photo, tracing its outline with trembling fingers

"She wants you to be happy," True assured him, steadying his hands with her own. With only the slightest of hesitations Danziger rose, taking her hand and leading her to the base of the tree, to the exact spot where they'd trembled together, hoping for this second chance.

Bess and the others watched, mesmerized by the bond that John and True shared. Uly, in particular, was studying them intently. Bess wondered if he was thinking about his father, if he was old enough to see all the variables. Did his privileged upbringing outweigh such mysteries, or had he simply realized that he didn't have to look much further than under the Transrover for paternal support?

Danziger reverently placed the small photo at the base of the marker, gently pinning it down with the small Vid-Chip case that held the Neuro-Stasis footage he's shared with True back at the Bio-Dome.

Bess knew how hard it would be for him to leave this piece of himself behind, but she knew he was ready. After all, John had his beautiful girl and Devon's understanding and love; he had a family of people who to whom he meant the world.

He would be just fine.

Rising from creaky knees, Danziger cleared his throat, discreetly brushing a tear away. He rested a palm on True's head, and she reached for the other, smiling up at him as she popped his knuckles, one after the other.

When she finished, Danziger had the composure to continue.

"I'll never know if Ellie knew she was with child, and not a day goes by that I don't wish she could have lived to see what a beautiful girl her daughter has become. But in my heart, when I think about Ellie…when I find it in me to share her life with True, I know she's watchin.'" He startled Bess a bit when he paused to meet her eyes with an appreciative smile. "She visits me, every now and again, to make sure I'm headin' in the right direction. And I know that despite all the blunders and setbacks and the bone-headed decisions, I've done right by her. And I've done right by her child."

John nodded to his friends, a bashful smile tugging at his cheek.

"And it means a lot to me that you all came back here to help me and True say goodbye."

After a loaded pause he gently nudged True from behind.

"Yale helped me find something to say," she spoke up softly, looking to the tutor nervously for approval.

Yale proudly nodded her on like a proud parent himself, and Bess found his smile infectious.

"Well, it's something to read, cause I didn't write it. It's a poem, and it's really old, but I thought it was pretty. It's a little sad, too, I'm just warning you, but Yale says it's the perfect choice." The mentor chuckled deeply, and True gave him a sarcastic smile, "even if there's no cuss words."

She squeezed her dad's hand tightly, looking down at the picture of her mother, reciting the words that she'd insisted on learning by heart. She'd hidden herself far off from camp, to avoid being heard, and only Yale knew what verse she'd picked.

True spoke loudly now, for everyone to hear.

"_Nature's first green is gold.  
Her hardest hue to hold.  
Her early leaf's a flower;  
But only so an hour.  
Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
So Eden sank to grief,  
So dawn goes down to day.  
Nothing gold can stay."_

Bess found her lips tracing the beautiful, familiar words. Her father had loved Robert Frost, and in the evenings she'd climb into his lap and listen to him read. The meaning behind the words had been lost to her then, no more than seven or eight, and by the time she was True's age her mother was gone, and her father had used most of the books to keep the fires lit.

She found it telling of True's burgeoning adulthood, what she'd selected from the endless files of poetry Yale had in his memory banks. The tutor smiled, pleased at the little girl's contribution, and broke the formal distance between the Danzigers and the others. Approaching with arms wide open he hugged his pupil, and then John himself. The others took their time to compose themselves before doing the same.

"I can't believe he's just going leave the picture there," Morgan leaned in to whisper in Bess' ear, giving her an affectionate peck as she wiped her eyes. She turned to study him, evaluating his statement.

"I think it's just what he needs to do to let her go," Bess supplied softly, rubbing her husband's back as she steered him towards John and True. The pair was surrounded by friendly smiles and comforting arms, and Bess was happy to see the mood was almost jubilant once again.

"Charlie Breakner, what an ass!" Walman exclaimed so loudly it lifted over the general din of conversation.

Danziger grinned.

"Yeah, I suppose your right," Morgan agreed readily, kneading her shoulder with awkward tension. "Don't be mad, Bess."

Pulling away, Bess looked him squarely in the eye with her usual brand of patient contention.

"Morgan, what did you do?" She asked softly, watching him chew his lip with culpability.

She sincerely hoped John would be able to teach the poor man something in the poker face department, now that the 'guys' had taken to card playing at lunchtime.

"I found that picture in True's pocket…and she caught me with it," he grimaced, sore with himself. "I guess Danziger had hidden it, but she'd found it and she was scared to give it back, 'cause of…well, everything…"

Bess accepted his explanation, but her eyes made it clear she'd rather he'd stop beating around the bush.

"Anyway, I snuck back and got it and scanned it into my VR."

Bess frowned a bit.

"I just thought, here is this thing: this wrinkly slip of synth-fiber that's gonna get messed up or torn up or _blown_ up, knowing Danziger, and it's the only physical evidence the poor kid has that she didn't get hatched from an egg! I thought it would be nice to have a copy somewhere, you know, for the grandchildren or something!"

Bess smiled a bit. Morgan did make a very good point.

"And it's a good thing I did! The big lout's just gonna leave it there to blow away or be stolen for some penal colonist's pin up--"

Taking her husband back into her arms, Bess placed a silencing finger on his lips before quickly replacing it with her lips.

"Morgan, what you did for True was very sweet."

Having said that, Bess, took him firmly by the shoulders.

"But, honey, it's just a picture! John knows that Ellie will always be a part of him, but he's outgrown his dependence on…objects. Just like you gave all your VR games to Uly and True."

With a sheepish nod, Morgan acknowledged what she was trying to tell him, leading her onward to the group again, tucked under his chin.

"Sure, but it doesn't mean I don't like to look at the cartridges every once in a while. I mean, this is why we have technology, right? To keep what's important?"

Only half listening, Bess watched as True took off at a run, briefly chasing Uly before tackling him to the ground, grinning manically as he squealed with nine-year-old glee.

Danziger loped over to break it up but, as he bent to help the kids up, their combined tugging dragged him down. He pretended to be felled like a tree, easily catching his weight just when the kids thought they'd be crushed, joining them in the dirt in a laughing heap.

"Honey, I think what John was trying to say was that True is all the reminder he needs."

Devon was bent over the three, hands on her hips, and John feigned compunction only long enough to take firm hold of her helping hand, pulling her down with the rest of the lot.

She was giggling like a fool, Bess noted, relieved.

Danziger's expression had shifted, and where there had been a maelstrom of longing and the raw edges of regret Bess could see a glimmer of serenity. No matter how hesitant he'd been to allow this service or how reluctant he'd been to participate, he'd spoken with grace and sincerity.

Danziger had experienced something profound a week earlier, in this very same spot, and- here again- he'd found the words to express it.

He'd finally let go of his past.

Morgan made a small sound, nodding against the crown of her head.

"That's probably why I don't have any pictures of you, Bess Martin," he whispered gently. As they watched, Danziger quickly launched himself upright, dusting off his pants as he effortlessly hoisted Devon into his arms with obvious adoration. "Because I'm never, ever letting you go."

Bess watched as John patted True on the shoulder and Uly on the behind and sent them running off again, this time towards the Transrover. He and Devon began ambling over as the group began to disband.

"I love you, Morgan Martin," Bess sighed, leaning up to look him in the eyes. "You're such a Bruno."

He laughed, wrinkling his nose endearingly as she leaned up for a kiss.

"That was so beautiful, Bess," Julia spoke as she and Alonzo snuck up from behind the pair. Bess jumped a bit, feeling Morgan do the same, and she quickly aborted her attempt at a kiss.

Morgan gave her a look that made it clear that Ulysses and True would be spending their evening far from the Martin tent tonight.

"I'm really glad we were able to do this," Alonzo chimed in, laughing as he jumped playfully to avoid being hit by the kids as they rushed by. "It's great to see True acting like a kid again."

"Thank you for convincing him to do this," Julia solemnly murmured as John and Devon drew closer. "And thanks for convincing _me_."

The doctor had begun regularly scheduled meetings with Danziger; private talks where he could feel safe confiding in her as his physician, and she'd found her patient had benefited greatly from the sense of structure. While John continued to improve in both health and mind, Bess knew that the responsibility of keeping his confidence weighed heavily on Julia at times. Despite the pull of Bess' incessant curiosity, she deeply respected the doctor's adherence to her ethical code, and would never ask her to jeopardize that trust.

The Earth-Res grinned to remind Julia that this had been a celebration of life, not death.

"It was just perfect," she concurred, squeezing the woman's hand firmly.

"No matter how much John groused about coming, it means so much to him that everyone was here for him," Julia's avoidance of Bess' eyes made it obvious that she felt uncomfortable even disclosing that much "This was a big test for him."

"Well, I'd say he passed with flying colors," Bess reminded her gently.

Julia swallowed hard, obviously still impacted by the unexpected emotion of the ceremony, but before Bess could again speak John's firm hand clapped onto her shoulder, making her jump again.

"Danziger, honestly! We should get you a bell!"

The small group burst out laughing at the look on John's face, a mixture of shock and amusement that left him momentarily stunned.

He looked like he was about to speak, but instead he borrowed her from Morgan's embrace long enough to smother her in one of his own.

"Ellie would have loved you just as much as I do," he whispered, squeezing her fiercely before delivering her back to Morgan safe and sound, punching her husband affably on the shoulder with a nod of his head.

"And she would have been so proud of you," Bess assured him warmly, "I sure am."

Reaching out blindly, John's hand found Devon's as easily as if he'd had years of practice.

"She is," he confirmed, winking at Bess before turning to study Devon's face, "and it's sure as hell been years since she's seen me this happy."

Devon grinned, stroking his clean-shaven cheek before leaning up to tenderly kiss his chin. She huffed with playful frustration when he wouldn't budge far enough for her to reach his lips.

Bess' heart fluttered to see the two of them, so oddly matched but so complimentary.

Their tentative new symbiosis had not quite yet become part of the group dynamic, and would certainly take some getting used to from Danziger's crew, but to Bess it seemed they'd always played this spontaneous tug of war, whether it was with words or glances or lips.

Or water, for that matter.

Finally, John caved under her full weight hanging like an anchor from his neck, and- right there in front of them- lifted Devon off her feet and kissed her soundly enough to put to rest any burning questions his friends may have had to rest regarding their romantic involvement.

At the moment, the only thing burning was Bess' cheeks, And Devon's. And Morgan's hairline. Bess had been meaning to find a Grendler with a hat.

It was definitely time to be hitting the road.

As Danziger soundly settled Devon back to the earth, he turned to face his fellow lovebirds with a cocky smile, issuing a challenge that no one dared accept.

"That's how you do it, gentlemen," he smirked, grabbing Devon's hand again. He towed her past Bess expression of disbelief; past Morgan's gaping stare and Alonzo's smirk of satisfaction, leaving them to their gossip.

For all of twelve seconds.

"Get the lead out!" He called over his shoulder with a surly grin, grunting a bit as True leapt from the cargo bin into his arms like a monkey. Danziger laughed, hefting her with a kiss to the temple, waving at them with his trademark impatience.

"New Pacifica's not getting any closer, let's make it happen!"

Morgan rolled his eyes, but Bess could hear the mirth in his snort just as clearly as she could hear the thinly veiled relish in Danziger's tried-and-true drill sergeant routine.

Lowering True to the ground casually with one arm, John swung himself up on the Transrover's boot grill. "Lonz,' you're with Cameron on point, Julia's first driver for the ATV and Bess and Captain Romantic over there are in the Dunerail with Denner and Walman. Adair and I are manning the 'Rover. Everyone else start walkin.'"

Effortlessly pulling Devon up onto the platform, Danziger held her close for a moment, burying his nose in her hair as he cast a final glance at Ellie's Tree.

He was ready.

John deposited Devon on the bench seat with a graceful spin, climbing in beside her before leaning out of the door as the 'Rover began to creep forward.

"Let's go, people! We're movin' on."

* * *

a/n: I started this story FOUR YEARS AGO. I never thought I'd finish it, nor did I have the foggiest idea about what was about to happen 99.9% of the time. If it wasn't for FCB Allison I wouldn't have started it, pushed through the hump, and I certainly wouldn't have written 22 freakin' chapters. She is the ultimate Earth 2 guru, and deserves major treats. I sincerely appreciate all of the support and _patience_ my darling readers have shown for this story. I hope I did the crew Justice!

"Postcard January 22nd" is by Donald Hall, from his collection _Without._


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